As your bright and tiny spark

Picture two figures, huddled on a less-travelled path, with the sky wrapped around them like a blue-black blanket lined by the fire of the setting sun. Talking; sometimes profoundly, sometimes desultorily. Soon it turns into inky blackness, and the stars come out, and twinkle merrily overhead. 

So...you like the stars.  It is a statement.

Well, in a way. They are...constant.

Are you always this cryptic?

No. But there is something terribly beautiful and permanent about a ball of gas several million miles away, which shall change but little during our lifetimes; and which we shall probably never visit.

I love how you say 'No', then prove yourself wrong. And will you ever travel to Africa?

No, but therein lies the difference. Africa is possible, within reach, almost..easy, one might say.

You are such a dreamer. You do get results though.

Perhaps.

Is that why you are depressed sometimes? Because you dream too much?

Maybe.

Well, you should try doing smaller things more often. Like this.

And they walk off, and go to a place less quiet, and more warm, leaving the sky alone behind them.