There once were two stars having a conversation. There was and Filmnide-Nitrexton, who was beautiful, and Tib’n-Rexton, who was hideous. The truth is, they both look exactly the same, but Filmnide thinks she is beautiful, while Tib’n thinks he is hideous. They were neighbors, only a couple lightyears away, and they looked on upon Earth and the small organisms that appeared and disappeared in the time it took for the stars to blink (which they do, every once in awhile, but humans don’t notice because it only happens every few million years).

They are imbeciles. Tib’n says.

I know, isn’t it wonderful? Filmnide responds

How can that be wonderful?

One must be an imbecile to be happy

They are small and insignificant.

Yes, they are. But he is not. And she is not. And they (referring to a person, not a species) are not.

How can they all be insigncifiant, but each one be significant?

Together, they are just another species. They will live and die, same as the rest. As individuals, they exist for such little time, but they care so much about it and focus so greatly on it. They spend all the time they have trying to love others and leave a legacy that will ask just a bit longer. Here, look at that lady, what is she looking at?

The sky.

Where in the sky?

Why, that’s where father used to exist. He ceased years ago… I had forgotten.

But she did not. She still stares at him him wonder. He makes her night. No matter how much she suffers, at night she looks upon him and feels better.

They are ignorant. We know he is gone, and she does not.

And yet, she feels joy from his presence, and we do not.

She is already gone. Another girl sits in her place, still staring at the void where father once existed.

That is her offspring, five generations in. The planet looks completely different. It has changed more in a moment than we ever will. That is wonderful. Despite all this change, she still looks at that star because her ancestor, or mother, did, and her mother before that. She sings a primitive song about him. Talks about how he twinkles. Calls him “little star.” It is a beautiful song. She connects father to other stars and creates lines. Through those lines, she creates a portrait. She calls it a constellation. It is a beautiful portrait. That, too, is wonderful.

Tib’n paused for a moment and considered. He looked regretful for a moment, but then looked resolute.

They are still insignificant imbeciles. They look upon father and smile. He is horrifying. His gravity eliminated so many, and his flares are capable of such fire and burn that they cannot comprehend the pain.

For a ball of gas, you sure are hardheaded. They are aware of all this. They see it even more in their own star.

Sib’n hexticide?

Sun. The humans prefer Sun, so she goes by Sun out of respect.

Out of respect? She is as hideous as father! She will kill them all one day. Her radiation is already killing them.

She cannot control that! It is in her nature, and she hates herself for it. And yet, they forgive her. They spend every day purging the thought from their mind. They love her. Their ancestors worship her. They thank her for a bright sky and cozy warmth. The beautiful sunset and a beautiful sunrise. Their lives revolve around her. They fight every day to find others as beautiful as her. They fight every day to find us. Look! They’ve already made it to that little moon of theirs!

Their moon?! It’s so close! They’ve barely moved at all!

And yet, they have moved and we have not.

Tib’n considered yet again. He considered for a very long time. By the time he was done, humans were gone. Earth was gone.

I am sorry.

And now you have found the true beauty of humanity. Through one word, a single apology, you are the last human.