I found her sitting in the crest of the moon with a ****** rifle, shooting stars, laughing as they fell one by one.
I asked her why she was laughing, and she told me she was making wishes.
I said “falling starts don’t make wishes.”
She stopped her chuckling and looked very seriously at me. “It’s not falling stars, it’s shooting stars!” She said with a “matter of fact” tone.
I shook my head and told her she was ****** up. “Don’t tell me I’m ****** up,” she said,
“I don’t have a specific direction.”
I fell back to earth with a bang.