Eleanor Henderson

Scintilla

The birth and death of stars is largely a local matter that generally only concerns the neighbors. But I did hear a story that unfolded otherwise. Whether it is true or not, I don’t know. But I will tell it to you anyway, since it is a good story. You may recognize parts of it. Perhaps you have even encountered some of the players in disguise.

As I heard it, a pair of twin stars came into being in the depths of time and space, and circled around each other, daring to dance closer and closer. As sometimes happens, a black hole opened and grew. It was small, and weak, and hungry, very hungry to swallow the light of its two neighbors. The two stars were very taken with each other (and, not to be rude, but with themselves as well) and hardly noticed their ailing neighbor. In time, they spun so fast that the little black hole could not hold on and flew off through space in search of something to eat. Hungry and indignant, it reached for a little yellow sun, which adroitly stepped out of its way, and trapped the rude intruder in a harmless orbit. Or so the sun thought, as it yawned and went back to sleep.

The little black hole was very offended, and stomped its figurative feet in the void. This was a bad move, as it dislodged a tiny sleeping hitchhiker. The little black hole watched a flash of light arc across the alien sky, and grumbled to itself, “Drat, I could have eaten that.”

The hapless little piece of star fell to earth, where it was promptly stepped on. By something warm. Ah, warmth! It burrowed itself into the paw of a passing panther, who said, “Ouch!” then, “Oh!” as it began to think for the first time.

★       ★       ★