There’s a THUMP, but I feel more than hear it, because I’m already gone, faster than the sound can catch me. I try as hard as I can in this first burn, climbing into the sky with just a hint of the light that’s coming.

I’m slower now, starting to feel spent, but laughing at the irony that something as small as I was could ever get so much attention.

I’m clawing my way up into the sky, visibly exhausted, but still trying desperately to get that one last inch of air, that last bit that will make sure that everyone sees what I can do.

In the instant before I explode, you might ask how I could ever have gotten this far and done so much: I didn’t save anything for the return trip.

I put all that I’ve got left into the light that spreads as I die.