I found at least one new star, maybe two, maybe even three, so faint I could barely see them. The big one next to it is obvious, though I doubt anyone's seen it either. People only notice that patch of hatched lines to the west of them. I don't reveal that part of the galaxy often.
It's a constant battle. I wonder if I'm doing it right, if "right" is only a term of belief and neither matter, if drawing stars is dehumanizing, if dehumanization is the way to go because battles are. Maybe purgatory is, like throwing up kerosene and shitting bricks for millennia.
I can't remember the face of my cubicle-mate; I wouldn't remember yours if I didn't have a picture of it; I just remember what was said, how long ago, and how it made me feel.
A bone-white moon bore sole witness as you said, "Fare thee well, Narayan."
Was this the end? which is to say, "Am I just being stupid again??"