Luna pointed at a streaking light. It thumped softly into her garden.
She crept closer, her shadow stretching long. Something glowed faintly beneath the rosebush.
Kneeling down, she parted the leaves. A tiny spark shivered beneath the rosebush.
She wrapped the spark in her red wool blanket and hummed a steady tune. Night after night, the glow brightened a little more.
By the third evening, the spark opened its small lights. It pulsed slowly in her hands.
Luna lifted the spark toward the sky, but it dropped back with a sad little sigh.
She held it high and shouted, 'Up you go!' The spark sneezed with a pop and zoomed upward.
Each night, Luna waved at the brightest star. Two quick twitches always answered.
