The Boy Who Made Stars
Motoki was fifteen when he accidentally created stars. Before this time, the night’s sky had always been ebony black, and the white glow of the moon had looked like a cheap spotlight left there by a film studio in liquidation. People rarely looked up because it reminded them of that void under the bed when you tuck your feet under you as a child for fear of the faceless blue monster. Everyone carried lanterns because shining a powerful torch every day was both a waste of electricity and like dropping a feather in a hedgehog farm. Lanterns at least were warm in a glow that mirrored babies’ cheeks and hot tea by the fireplace on snowy days.
Go read it. You know you want to.
And a huge congrats to Eliza. :D