3 years later...
Augustus Waters looked at the hoop where he had practiced all those years and took aim. He wobbled slightly, but steadied himself and fired the ball. It flew through the air, landing at the rim of the ring, before circling round and round, ending by falling through the hoop. He hobbled towards the orange ball. Ol' prosty wasn't giving him a good time but at least he hadn't lost his touch. Not that he particularly enjoyed basketball anymore.
Still, it was hard to imagine that 3 years ago he had two fully functional flesh-made legs. And as he pondered about it, he glanced into the darkness of the night, greeted by twinkling stars, each one possibly home to a world of its own. After the diagnosis and amputation he had always wondered whether his fate had been linked to the stars in any sort of way. Not that he would ever know for sure. After all, there were some mysteries of the universe that would forever be left unanswered. Following that train of thought, he retrieved a box of cigarettes from his pocket, sticking one into his mouth without lighting it.
He breathed in deeply, taking in the night air for a moment and standing in the center of the court, with no particular thoughts about anything before a passing car snapped him back to reality, causing him to check his non-existent watch. It was probably time to go home. He had promised Isaac to go for this Support Group the next day after hearing him talk about it during one of their discussions and he needed some sleep, plus there was the curfew. The whole idea of the Support Group sounded preposterous to him. A group of cancer-ridden people sitting together in the Literal Heart of Jesus talking about how miserable or happy they were with their conditions and preconditions. Still, who knew what to expect? Maybe there were interesting people there. Just maybe.
And as he limped back homewards, two stars twinkled brightly next to each other in the darkness above him, first individually then all together.