The streaks and smudges deep in the night sky have lit the world, with love, for many centuries. People have glared up at it, sinking their blue, and red, and green, and yellow, and brown eyes, hoping and wishing that a shooting star would break through the atmosphere, so they can wish and believe in something magical for a day. But time comes and time goes, and those men and women and children grow old, and fall into dismay, and hopelessness. Life changes, circumstances differ, and people get filled with hatred. Magic, and enchantments, and incantations become, but a ruse to the once soft heart that glared, without complacency, at the...