Sunday Scibblings: Out of This World

Insignificance
Unaccompanied along an endless stretch of plains, he pulls aside. He’s seen no one for miles, doesn’t expect anyone. He douses the lights, adjusts to the darkness.
The winter evening’s chill electrifies a moonless sky resplendent with radiant pin-pricks. His heart quickens with a thought: A sky so brilliant would be a waste for the Human Race alone.