Journey to the Stars

Nose pressed to the cold porthole, Lea holds one breath. Out there – so close, so quiet – the stars glitter like needles of light. Never so many, never all at once. “Endless,” whispers Lea, and the breath leaves a little circle on the glass.

Nose pressed to the cold porthole, Lea holds one breath. Out there – so close, so quiet – the stars glitter like needles of light. Never so many, never all at once. “Endless,” whispers Lea, and the breath leaves a little circle on the glass.

At breakfast the cereal bits float gently through the air, and Lea snaps one up mid-flight. A tickle in the tummy, a giggle in the throat. Today is no ordinary day – today Lea wants to fly farther than ever before. “I'm ready,” says Lea, softly, so only the morning hears.

At breakfast the cereal bits float gently through the air, and Lea snaps one up mid-flight. A tickle in the tummy, a giggle in the throat. Today is no ordinary day – today Lea wants to fly farther than ever before. “I'm ready,” says Lea, softly, so only the morning hears.

The little spaceship waits warm and shining in the airlock. Lea climbs in, buckles up tight and lays one finger on the red start button. It glows softly. One deep breath – and then: whoosh! – out into the wide, quiet sea of stars that closes gently all around.

The little spaceship waits warm and shining in the airlock. Lea climbs in, buckles up tight and lays one finger on the red start button. It glows softly. One deep breath – and then: whoosh! – out into the wide, quiet sea of stars that closes gently all around.

Between two big stars Lea spots a tiny light, drifting this way and that with nowhere to go. Not a planet, not a comet. A little star, alone and lost. It blinks twice – once, twice – as if to ask: “Do you see me?” Lea steers closer. Yes, Lea sees it.

Between two big stars Lea spots a tiny light, drifting this way and that with nowhere to go. Not a planet, not a comet. A little star, alone and lost. It blinks twice – once, twice – as if to ask: “Do you see me?” Lea steers closer. Yes, Lea sees it.

Carefully Lea opens the docking window, and the little star slips inside. It warms Lea's palm like a small sun-stone. Then Lea flies past a green planet, past a blue one with rings – and the silver moon waves, like an old friend.

Carefully Lea opens the docking window, and the little star slips inside. It warms Lea's palm like a small sun-stone. Then Lea flies past a green planet, past a blue one with rings – and the silver moon waves, like an old friend.

A soft crackle on the radio. Ahead of them a whole belt of moonstones turns, grey and heavy, wheeling slowly, stone after stone. Lea swallows. The gaps look narrow – maybe too narrow. The little star in Lea's hand goes quiet. Lea too.

A soft crackle on the radio. Ahead of them a whole belt of moonstones turns, grey and heavy, wheeling slowly, stone after stone. Lea swallows. The gaps look narrow – maybe too narrow. The little star in Lea's hand goes quiet. Lea too.

Lea breathes in deep. Then once more. The heart is thumping loud, but the hands grow steadier. Lea steers the little ship a touch to the left, then to the right, then straight ahead – and swish! – through, without brushing a single stone. The little star turns a somersault in the weightless air.

Lea breathes in deep. Then once more. The heart is thumping loud, but the hands grow steadier. Lea steers the little ship a touch to the left, then to the right, then straight ahead – and swish! – through, without brushing a single stone. The little star turns a somersault in the weightless air.

Behind the stone belt a warm golden cloud of stars opens up. Lea blinks. The light here is soft, and it smells – almost – of fresh waffles. And that makes Lea laugh. That is exactly how the morning smelled, at the very first look out of the porthole. Even space smells of home.

Behind the stone belt a warm golden cloud of stars opens up. Lea blinks. The light here is soft, and it smells – almost – of fresh waffles. And that makes Lea laugh. That is exactly how the morning smelled, at the very first look out of the porthole. Even space smells of home.

The little star begins to shine – first pink, then golden, then blazing bright. It knows where it belongs. Gently it lifts from Lea's hand and floats out through the docking window to its place between two big stars. Its warm glow draws one long, bright line – straight back to the space station.

The little star begins to shine – first pink, then golden, then blazing bright. It knows where it belongs. Gently it lifts from Lea's hand and floats out through the docking window to its place between two big stars. Its warm glow draws one long, bright line – straight back to the space station.

Lea lands softly, curls up under the warm blanket and looks out through the porthole. There, among a thousand stars, one small one blinks exactly twice. Once, twice. Lea smiles. To go anyway, with a heart that thumped – and to come back all the same. That feels like the bravest thing of all.

Lea lands softly, curls up under the warm blanket and looks out through the porthole. There, among a thousand stars, one small one blinks exactly twice. Once, twice. Lea smiles. To go anyway, with a heart that thumped – and to come back all the same. That feels like the bravest thing of all.