The stars had always been there. In moments of joy, in tears shed in solitude, they remained — constant, indifferent, infinite.
When her nomadic journey began, she watched them in silence each night, her dog by her side. His quiet presence was a comfort beneath the vast, unchanging sky. The road stretched on, and with each new day, they ventured further, still together.
Then, love arrived. Bright, unexpected, fleeting, like a meteor shower. At night, they sat in the grass, the three of them, bathed in celestial light.
But love does not defy time, and neither does life. The dog left first, his absence filling every shadow, every empty space. A weight too heavy for words. Then, love slipped away, leaving only echoes.
And still, the stars remained. She stopped her nomadic life, sold her van, and returned to the region where she grew up, to be with her family. Above the city, she sat alone on the cliff, gazing at the sprawling galaxies; old friends in the vastness of the night. She had lost so much, yet the sky had not abandoned her. It never would.
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