High up above the sky, stars, spread across the expanse of the galaxy, sit down and enjoy a conversation of whispers among themselves. Tonight, they are whispering about a girl, fixed to a window in the southeastern hemisphere of Earth, who has summoned their attention with the deep sorrow flushed down the hollow tunnel of her body and salty tears that stain her gaunt cheeks. The stars meet her wide-eyed gaze as her far-away eyes shoot a thousand questions, requests and sighs at the sparkling dots in the midnight blue. Tell me the antidote for life, her mind’s eye asked, tell me the antidote for emptiness. Tell me the antidote for pain, and sorrow. Tell me the antidote for joy and happiness. Tell me, tell me, tell me how to get through the engulfing loneliness of the night. Tell me, stars, I beg of you.

And the stars, split into two houses, performed a concert for the girl with the inquisitive eyes. One house whispered “tell me, tell me, tell me” and the other threw spurts of whispers, saying, “No answers at all. No answers. The pain, the sorrow, the emptiness, the joy, the happiness, the day, the night, the night, the day, all of life, makes up all of life. Tears, laughter, calm, storm, all of life, makes up all of life. Pain, comes from love. Love, comes from pain.” The girl, marvelled at the spectacular concert for her benefit, heaves a sigh of contentment, and nourished by the whispers of the stars, she prepares to face another day. And at sun down, she will look at the sky again, for the whispering comfort of her all-knowing friends.