Last Words of a Dying Star
Hey there, cosmic wonderer. Ever wondered what it's like to be a celestial body hanging on that last glimmer?
A star's life is kind of like a symphony, isn't it? Slow beginnings, dramatic flares, and eventually, an inevitable fading.
What they never tell you is how peaceful it is once you accept that final shimmer of spectrums. It's where light catches memories between streams of cosmic dust.
Sometimes, I'd send cometary messages across the void, calling out to lost voyagers, hoping they'd catch a snippet of my cosmic conversation.
Most of them drift by, but a few, ah, those who've listened, caught my tale in their auroras.
How does one recount eons, you ask? In whispers, of course. Tethered stories of nebulas, twirling, weaving starry tapestries through timelines that only Hermes could decode.
The glow dims, but the tale never does.
Before you go, might wanna check the whispers across the void or ponder the twilight nebulas.
Safe travels, voyager. Follow the warmth where you see it.