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Milo leans against his bedroom window, night lamplight behind him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. Outside in the moonlit garden, a tiny glowing star rests on the grass, casting bluish light on nearby flowers.
Milo watched the night sky from his window. "Hello, stars," he whispered. A tiny star tumbled into his garden, softly glowing. "Are you lost?" Milo asked. The star twinkled back, "Yes."
In Milo’s dimly lit bedroom, he gently slips the tiny star into his striped pajama pocket, brow furrowed with concern. The star’s once-bright glow fades to a soft ember, illuminating his hands and the quilted bedspread.
Milo tucked the star into his pocket. "I’ll keep you safe," he said. Soon, the glow grew faint. "I miss my sky," whispered the star. Milo’s heart thumped. He knew what was right.
Milo stands atop a grassy hill under a starry night sky, hair and pajamas fluttering in a warm breeze. Arms outstretched, he lifts the dim star above his head, its faint light reflecting in his determined eyes.
Milo hurried to the tallest hill. "Little star, I wanted to keep you," he admitted. "But you belong home." He held the star high toward the sky. The wind rose, gentle and warm.
On the hill’s crest beneath the deep midnight sky, Milo waves goodbye with a proud smile. Above him, the rejuvenated star streaks upward, radiating bright gold light that sparkles across scattered constellations.
The star leaped upward, shining bright again. "Thank you, Milo," it chimed. "Goodbye, brave friend," Milo said, waving. Stars sparkled across the sky. Milo walked home, warm with pride and light.
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