I touch the atmosphere and begin.
The air ignites as it blasts against my surface; tearing bits and pieces off. I’ve traveled millions of miles for these last few seconds. I burn and shine and listen.
How many will I hear? One? Five? Twenty? Or will my final blaze be silent, unwitnessed, unremembered?
I strain to hear past the fire roaring. I struggle to stretch time. Just a little while longer, please.
There almost nothing left of me when I hear:
My light flares for the last time as my body is consumed but my spirit continues within the wishes made upon my funeral pyre.