#58 Mummy Do Stars Die Too?

Thirteen-year-old Callum always found comfort in the night sky.

Walking home from his youth club, lemonade in hand, he admired the crisp autumn air and the stars appearing one by one.

The heavens felt infinite, unshakable—a quiet refuge from the noise of the world.

But tonight was different.

As Callum sipped his lemonade, he saw the brightest star in the sky wink out—swallowed by a dark, grey cloud that seemed to emerge from nowhere.

The cloud wasn’t like others.

It didn’t move.

It lingered, pulsing faintly… as if alive, blending seamlessly with the encroaching night.

Minutes later, Callum burst through the front door, pale and shaking. His mother tried to soothe him, but he couldn’t form the words. It took ten agonizing minutes before he finally spoke.

“Mummy… do stars die too?”

The question sent a chill down her spine. What had her son seen?

She looked out the window at the clear night sky, but Callum refused to follow her gaze.

Instead, he whispered about the shadow—not a cloud, but something alive, something that devoured light itself.

What disturbed her more was that Callum hadn’t called her “mummy” in years.

Over the next few nights, Callum grew quieter. More distant.

He stared at the sky for hours, mapping constellations, marking which stars had dimmed.

Because it wasn’t just one anymore.

More and more were being hidden by the dark space cloud, and Callum was the only one who seemed to notice.

Then, one night before bed, he told his mother something that made her blood run cold.

“They’re not hiding,” he said softly.

A pause. “They are disappearing.”

The next morning, Callum’s bed was empty. His window left open. She tried to convince herself he’d gone for a walk. To clear his head.

It was Saturday. He sometimes went out early. To visit friends. Or buy a treat. Lemonade, maybe.

But something didn’t feel right. Her calls went unanswered. Her messages unread.

Meanwhile, Callum stood on the nearest hill, two miles outside of town. His phone battery long dead.

He hadn’t even woken early. He’d been there all night. Watching the sky. Watching the shadows.

He found nothing online. No news. No alerts. Nothing from the space agencies. Not even the amateur astronomers. But he knew what he’d seen.

And it wasn’t stopping.

Back home, his mother—uneasy—looked up. The moon hung faintly in the daylight sky. Familiar. Harmless.

And then she saw it.

Something wrong. Something moving on its surface.

Callum remembered his backup battery charger in his rucksack. He turned his phone back on, expecting frantic messages.

He had several, from his mother.

'I have seen the space shadows'

'Callum I can see it… I can see everything… it’s on the moon now'

Callum froze. He looked up.

The moon he had looked at minutes ago looked normal. But not now.

His phone buzzed again.

'Callum I’m scared please just call me!'

At home, his mother stared upward. A sudden, icy wind swept through. Her eyes watered, stung by the cold.

Frantically, Callum tried calling her....his hands shaking with a mix of cold and terror.

Nothing. His screen merely flashed a simple warning.

NETWORK DOWN

REACH SHELTER IMMEDIATELY

THIS IS NOT A TEST

As the shadow stretched across the sky the last thing he felt was his eyes freezing over, not able to witness the dark hell swallowing the rising sun.

....wildlife yelping in screams of terror

....black winds tearing trees and buildings away from the earth ....Callum staring lifelessly like billions of other human statues into the new abyss Stars die too Callum.

Especially so during the Death of the Universe.