The past is in the stars, that much is known. The same goes for the future, but talk of such a thing doesn’t suit her at all. Perhaps it once did. Back when she was a kid with autumn in her hair and sunlight to her touch, but as it is, the adult world took such delicateness away, and so the night sky came to represent what might’ve been if only the gods had shone on her a little kindlier. Failure is a big word, but fail her they did, or so she thinks, because what is there to look forward to if life strives only to put out the flames one holds so dear. Somewhere, there lies an ocean, not of water, but of memory. You don’t swim in such an ocean, merely retreat. She vaguely remembers when she first dipped her toes in. It was when her daddy…