“There it is..” he said to his grandson, with a larger sigh, pointing at a star that wasn’t white nor dark in the sky but was blue with few white patches on it.
“Not even one life is there now?” the little kid inquired in his slim voice.
Old man shook his head intensely worried, “it has lost all its strength a long before and everything that made life possible there has been poisoned enough by its very own lives, so much that there is not a slightest chance now for a life to inhabit.”
Both sat calm on that rock watching that star: the old man with a heaviness filling his heart, the kid with all imagined fantasy that sourced from all the stories that his grandfather has told him about it.
“It must be the most beautiful of anything that will be and ever have been. Such a beauty it was, Even the lives there were so to watch” exclaimed the old man expressing the delight that was long lost.
“Grandmother once told me, the evil there were called Humans, were they the reason for it, Grandpa?”
“Indeed! And they called us aliens whenever we went there in plates” the old man chuckled, “Quite an irony!! Isn’t it?”
That small boy giggled at what he just heard. “Certainly!” he said.
“Earth! Such a cool name it is, Grandpa” the kid said, picturising everything that his grandfather told him: Those thing that were called trees, and things that were called animals and things that flew in the sky shuddering its wings and Those evil things that were called humans who have been the cause for such a devastation.