Pennies In Heaven

Some people say that the stars are like the sun, big masses of incandescent gases, gigantic nuclear furnaces. Of course, if I believe that, it also assumes that I believe the sun is a big ball of flaming goo too, and I'm not sure that that's something that I feel like believing in today.

In fact, I know that I don't feel like believing that the sun's a big ball of flaming goo. Or goop, or anything else for that matter, for fire is so much more fun and interesting to both look at and to play with than is the sun. Growing up, I was often and repeatedly told, "Don't look at the sun!" But how many times was I told, "Don't look at the fire!"? None! I was often told, "Don't play with fire!" But how often was I told, "Don't play with the sun!"? Never!

So I refuse to believe that the sun is really made up of a bunch of fire. Maybe it's a giant flashlight as someone tries to search for their missing marble, maybe it's a huge glow-worm inching its way toward the planet. Maybe it's the moon's magnified reflection. I don't know.

But I do know that I don't believe it's a huge ball of flaming goo. And since all the stars are just like the sun, but smaller, they can't be tiny huge balls of flaming goo. I rather like to think they're quarters, and that they get there from my couch, 'cause I know I had a dollar in change the other day, and my sofa isn't willing to give it back to me.