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The galaxies were gone, swept away. Nearly all solid matter in the universe had decomposed to base molecules. No voices, no solar wind, no energy.
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She realized she was the only light.
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The star thought of her sisters, and for the first time in millennia her thoughts were without rage—only dull, intractable bitterness. They were so beautiful, she thought, yet now they are dust while I, the ugly, still burn. But it gave her no pleasure to think of her sisters as giant black circles of cinders in a dark and empty void. She paused, shed a single tear of a solar flare, then moved on, the last star in the sky.
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Ω
