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| Betelgeuse |
At the top of the mountain, all we could hear was the fire, burning the logs. And we waited. For a sign. One day and another. Time went by. No sign. Our children waited and their children. And when there was no hope left, I stood up.
“I've been here since the beginning. I'm tired. I'm leaving.”
Everyone protested.
I raised my hand. Silence.
“We have burned everything around here. Look! It's ridiculous. Enough is enough. We don't even have a twig to burn, a twig.”
Someone at the back whispered “What was the sign all about again? I forgot.”
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