They're sparkling, I'm facinated. It's late at night. Quiet. Silent. I look at the light that may have begun its journey millions of years ago, and smile.
Looking at the stars, like gazing into the mirror of Erised, but filled with so many promises of what I could become. The peace of the ancient light sweeps over me, the knots in my neck and shoulders undo themselves.
Shattered diamonds, maybe. Or they're like faeries, too. For no logical reason, I reach up and try to catch the stars. My fingers are nowhere near long enough. Still, I'm satisfied, and I let my arm drop.
I pick out my star from the sky, the dogstar that shares my name. I lean back, stare at it. It shimmers as if it was laughing, not at me, but with me. I smile.
Another in a generation of dreamers, I sigh. Maybe everything will be fine soon. Maybe they'll find a cure for lycanthropy, I'll have my name cleared - pull Harry out of that awful muggle home. Maybe some assassin will get Voldemort. Then everything will be fine.
I yawn.
Yeah... absolutely fine...
It's a nice dream to think of as I drift off to sleep.
AN: A six minute write from Sirius' POV, inspired by the MP3 I d'loaded today from MP3.com... "Mythology and Dreams" by Mystical Sun. Great new age band...
This fits the music perfectly, and I can imagine Sirius doing this.
Writing this makes me sleepy... *yawn*