I was born in a place humanity has not yet seen.  In crowded system of others just like me, I watched time pass in an eternal detachment. Then my star died, ejecting me from my home and out into the depths of galactic space.  Without gravity to control me I wandered, purposeless and always alone. I watched the destiny of dynasties as new stars announced their birth only to die in fires of supernovae.  

This was the lonely lesson I learned in those eons: there is nothing new under trillions of suns. The universe does not care for us. We are not unique. We live, we die, we are ultimately powerless to the forces around us. Unimaginable power, inevitable end , endless monotony.

The voice I heard was faint at first; so faint that I thought I imagined it. As I let the repeated wish fill me I learned my true lesson.  If I could do this thing, this one thing, then I could make a difference in an indifferent universe.  By sheer will I forced a small crack in my face, allowing the tiniest amount of gas to escape. It was just enough to allow the star’s gravity-laden fingers to capture me. I passed gas giants and others of my kind, all orbiting indifferently deaf to the growing .

 I entered the atmosphere hearing  that clarion call and I lit up as bright as day in joyful response.

“Please, falling star, if I could just have a puppy.”