Welcome to Gaia! ::

This is a collaboration of a few of the people I have talked with, if they so choose it. mind you, it is not that way, nor does it have to be that way. I can continue writing on my own, but it was a good idea.

THOSE WHO WISH TO PARTICIPATE, POST. ( I reserve the right to remove posts I find do not fit well with such a story. A PM will be sent explaining why I removed it )

A thousand stars littered the velvet sky above the small child... every once and awhile the little one would count the tears of luna that streaked across that beautiful royal blue. Every time he saw one, he'd close his eyes and wish, wish so hard for his dream to come true, and every time, he'd open his eyes again and thank the star for such a gift as to hope.
Day after beautiful day, that child would come back to that spot... waiting for his stars to come by to make his wish, and every night the sky would cry for him, bringing him again to close his eyes in that wonderful moment of wishing. Then, one night, a star, just like the boy, came down to lie beside him. As the boy looked up, he saw no crying sky this night.
The boy was sad... so the star asked him. 'Little boy... why are you crying...?' The boy answered, 'My wish came true finally...' The little star, worried for the boy, wiped away his tears. 'What wish was that?' The boy looked to the star and smiled happily, finally noticing the tears were for joy. 'That the sky would stop crying.' Every day from then on, the boy's wishes were granted, for every night, he talked with the stars, never having to fear the sky crying again.

The story had ended... his daughter, asleep in her bed now because of the small diddy he came up with had calmed her.. but a question she asked got him in a daze for the rest of the night, not able to sleep, or even sit down. He paced his small loft, a cup of coffee in his hand as he thought over not really the innocent question.. but his answer.

'Daddy....? Do you have a wish? ' She asked, her eyes closed as she sighed out her last waking breath, sleep quickly catching up with her.

He looked to her, caressing her cheek and moving aside a few stray strands of hair from her face. 'Yes... but I am not a dreamer.. I am a storyteller...I am a star.. I guess... I catch those who fall, to let them try again.'

'But...but daddy....who will catch you...?'

(more to come)

His last story, though successful, was one for the masses... giving them what they want, instead of feeding his expression. He sighed, having drained another cup of coffee while reminiscing and just genuinely lost in thought. He stood up, finding out that in this time, he had forgotten the typewriter altogether.

The typewriter was old, now that he looked at it... the keys were still the push button, having to push them nearly to the table to get the leg to smack against the ink ribbon, even then, the slider was manual. The once baby blue color had worn away, leaving now metal spots from wear and tear.

It was hard for him to think that it might be time for a new typewriter.. this one he wrote his first novel on and made a name for himself as a 'literary master at the young age of 24' He was the first to earn an award for a fictional novel. Of course, that award was gone, so was his prestige, and he barely had his contract.

As he stood, staring off at the distance of now and then, he was startled to see that there was a piece of paper already loaded into the typewriter, already clicked and ready to go. He moved over, a little wary, not having remembered himself doing this, but he sat down, the cup being set on the coaster as always, the ring in the spongey foam was deep, showing this was normal routine.

He looked over the paper, frowning and then laughing out loud, the cold night air broken for a second. 'Well I'll be damned...' In front of him, on that sheet was just a few words which he had forgotten about until just now.

'A thousand stars littered ' He knew what this was, this was the story he just told his little girl. He smiled to himself as he started clacking away the story from memory, still fresh from his own mouth as it flew by. In just a few short moments, the story was writ up to the point where he stopped.

The night had froze for a moment as he stared at those few paragraphs. The story was simple.. elegant... yet it seemed incomplete. What of the boy? Were his wishes always granted? It was hard for him to know, yet it was already forming in his mind of what would happen. He laughed at his own luck as he left the paper there and went to bed.

Tomorrow was going to be a different night. Tomorrow was going to be the start of the story that would help him come back on track. This was his last ditch effort and he was going to run with it for all he had.