It was a cold, moonless night, the dead branches swaying stiffly, silently in the frail breeze. The sky was clear, and the stars shimmered faintly, even though there was nothing but the Earth's atmosphere to disturb their normally bright light. Below the faintly twinkling stars lay a small, dark town, it's residents huddled in a deep trance. All was dark and quiet, except for one very disturbed house. The lone light from the candle was distorted by the thick glass as it flickered onto the thin sheet of snow outside.  The door had been swung wide open, and a dark figure stood on the rough snow covered street. Puffs of steam escaped through the figure's mouth rapidly, its shadowed eyes wild and frantic. Couldn't they see it? Across the dark sky streaked a peculiar object, and the man standing in the frigid air knew that it could only spell trouble as the already bright object grew brighter and brighter, bigger and bigger. The residents of the town where all outside, but none of the where concerned with the foreign object in the sky. As the only bright object in the sky grew even brighter, a faint, pale glow was cast onto the town, and the dead branches began swaying faster and faster, the trees starting to groan as the branches lashed violently in the howling wind. The man's eyes darted around the town frantically, but they all kept talking, as if nobody knew what was going on. He called to them, but his words where lost into the wind. He ran up to a group, screaming madly at them, telling them to look up.  "Can't you see it?!" He cried. They looked at him with a puzzled expression. "There, up in the sky!" He pointed to the bright object. But they just looked at him as one would look upon the ravings of a mad man. "But I see no proof," they said, looking around with empty eyes. "But it's right there, in front of your very eyes!" He exclaimed frantically, his words dying as the roar of the wind grew ever louder. They smiled meekly at the man, then turned away.  Before he had much time to react to their sudden dismissal, in an instant the light turned blindingly bright, and the man screamed as a loud roar shook the small town, waves of earth rippling through the ground, debris flying high into the smoky sky. When the smoke cleared, the buildings in the town where nothing more then burning heaps of rubble, the ground distorted beyond recognition. The flickering glow from the flames was cast upon several bodies, shrivelled, scorched corpses, limbs torn violently in the blast. Their faces where dark and sunken in, their expressions not that of terror, but that of cruel naivety, their refusal to accept the idea of falling stars. And as for the man? He was left to fade into obscurity, and yet still nobody in this backwards world will accept this idea, too naive, too scared to accept the truth. Though there is proof, these people will never believe in falling stars, begging the great question. Why?