The Little Prince lived on a very small planet, so tiny he could watch the sunset whenever he wished. All he had to do was move his small wooden chair a few steps, and the sun would set again. He loved this simple magic of his tiny world.

Each evening, he would sit still, his knees drawn close, his eyes fixed on the glowing edge of the sky. The air turned soft and pink, and his world felt quiet, as if holding its breath. This was his favorite time, the hour when the light began to dream.

“One day,” he said, “I saw the sunset forty-four times.” He smiled as he remembered, though a shadow lingered behind his smile. “When one is very sad,” he whispered, “one loves the sunsets.”

The horizon glowed like molten honey. The Little Prince watched the sun’s edge melt away, thinking how short beauty’s stay could be. He sighed, but his sigh was gentle, like the last warmth of day leaving the sand.

Sometimes he thought of his special flower, far more delicate than the sun, and of the pride that had driven him to leave. He wondered if she too was watching the sunset somewhere. He missed her, though he would never say it aloud.

When he later told the pilot about the sunsets, his eyes shone with that faraway light. “You see,” he said softly, “on my planet, I can watch the sun set whenever I wish — just by moving my chair.” The pilot smiled, wishing Earth could be so simple.

But then the Little Prince added, “When one is very sad, one loves the sunsets.” The pilot looked at him, surprised. “Were you so sad, then?” He did not answer. Instead, he looked down, his scarf trembling softly in the evening wind.

Night came gently, laying its hands on the world. Stars began to appear like tiny flames rekindled after loss. The Little Prince lifted his head and smiled faintly, as if to greet old friends returning.

He knew that tomorrow he would watch again — the sun would fall, the sky would sing, and his heart would ache just the same. But he no longer wished to stop it. He had learned that endings, too, could be tender.

To love a sunset, he understood, is to love what cannot last — to love beauty even as it fades, and to find peace in its departure. And so he watched, again and again, until his heart felt full.