The shooting star going overhead makes me feel like a kid again. A small kid at least and that’s something I haven’t felt in a while.
I can’t help but standing up from the semi-wet grass I have been sitting on in Mister Watson’s backyard, balancing on one leg and closing my eyes, wishing upon a star for probably the first time since I was six years old.
“I wish, I wish that everything can work out for us for a change. I just want this place to be the last place we sleep until we can find a home again…” I keep quiet for a while, not sure if I want to make the next wish or not. Not wanting to jinx my second wish I decide not to make it.
“Wishing on stars?” a voice says behind me.
I look at Mister Watson, but he isn’t looking at me. He is staring up into the skies, almost like he is trying to count the stars.
“I know it’s stupid,” I say and I am glad it is dark outside, otherwise he would have seen me blush.