I have always loved the stars. On a clear night, like that night, I can watch the universe in its slow eternal dance. Sometimes, as I sit and watch the light from distant suns, I wonder where she is, how she is doing. I will never know what really happened that night. I will never understand who, or what, she was. I will never see her again I fear, but sometimes it is enough just to remember.
It was here that we met, outside my little house in the hills. I was sitting on my front porch, lost in thought. My hands playing random tunes on my old guitar. I stared out into the night, seeing nothing. At first I didn't even notice the lights.
Hundreds of tiny multicolored lights were flying around my house. Lightning bugs, was my first thought, but the lights were too bright and constant. Bemused, I stopped strumming my guitar. The reaction was instant. The lights darted away from my house in all directions. Within a few seconds, they were all gone.
After a bit of staring around into the night, I convinced myself that I had nodded off and dreamed the lights. I decided that if I were that tired I should hit the sack. Setting my guitar on the dresser, I undressed and got into bed. Before long, I was asleep.
An hour or two later, a sound woke me. It was a strange twanging sound. In the dark I saw a light flying around my guitar. From this close, I could see features inside the white light. It was a tiny naked woman, no bigger than my hand.
She was flying around my guitar, plucking at the strings. It looked like she was trying to figure out how to make it work. Flashing an angry red, she shook her tiny fist at it. When I saw her start kicking it, I decided to intervene.
"Hey now," I said. "Stop that."
Startled, she flew up and hit the ceiling with a thunk. Her light, the only light in the room, went out. I couldn't see what happened, but hitting the ceiling had knocked her unconscious.
I got out of bed and stepped cautiously to the door. Flipping my light on, I saw she had fallen to the floor. I carefully picked her up and took her into the kitchen.
Setting her on the table, I took the chance for a closer inspection. She was a pretty little thing. Flawless white skin covered her tiny naked body. Her ebony hair looked as though it would reach at least to her ankles. On her back, she had wings. They were filmy, delicate looking things, covered in what looked like glitter.
My inspection was interrupted as she opened her eyes. They stared up at me as I loomed over her, and a smile to rival a sunrise spread across her face. Rubbing her head, she giggled. In the kitchen lights her returned aura was barely visible, but it flashed bright green as she laughed.
"Moosic?" she asked. She had a high piping voice, like a flute talking.
"Music?" I replied. "You want music?"
I started to go get my guitar, then stopped myself. I knew the perfect tune for her, and I needed my piano for that.
Elton John's "Tiny Dancer" just seemed to fit.
She followed me into my living room, zipping around leaving sparkling trails in the air. I decided that her light show was worth playing in the dark.
As I started playing the clear, soft notes of the song, she began to dance. She flew gracefully around the room glowing brightly, her colors changing with the notes. As she danced, she began to sing. She didn't bother with trying to use the words. She wove music with her voice, playing it like an instrument.
Playing and singing it took me a bit to notice that hers was not the only voice. Outside I could see what looked like a thousand balls of light dancing in the air. They flashed with my song and I could hear them singing. It was my own personal choir of angels. They were taking my music and weaving their voices around it, making it something bigger, something perfect.
The glorious music flooded the air. I imagine my closest neighbors, miles away, could hear it. My door opened and the lights came in to dance.
Abandoning the song, I started to play with the music. I threw in variations on the tune, slowly changing it into another. It was like having a jam session with god. They took anything I threw out and turned it into pure beautiful music.
To this day I don't know how long we went on. Time stretched, allowing me to play for a century that night. I don't know how many songs I sang, or how many tunes I played. All I know is that it was music beyond anything I have ever heard. It was music I hear in the corners of my mind to this day. They call me the most talented musician of the age, but nothing I have ever played even comes close.
Eventually, as all things must, it ended. The lights began to move off into the growing light of dawn. I went outside and called out my thanks to the departing lights. None responded, but I felt that they had enjoyed themselves. I stumbled, exhausted, back into my room. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
I slept all day, more than twelve hours. I might have slept on through that night as well, but something woke me.
.... There is more of this story ...