Monday, December 22, 2014

The moon girl

The observer watched from a distance, her little hands jammed deep into her pockets, in an attempt to ward away the approaching winter.
She never spoke. Her lips were constantly pursed as she scooped up sand from the pit. As she fashioned the grains into the castles of her dreams.She never let the other children who curiously inquired her name hear a murmur, a whimper from her. Her voice was a mystery, drowned in some sorrow that no one could understand. Stifled by something she couldn't understand.
The observer watched all of the girls and boys around her, engrossed in their own world.
Except for one.
The girl with a smile that could light up the dampest day of the year. The girl wasn't like others. Something about her, some weird aura. Something.
The full moon. She will tell you this if you ask her what her name means. With a toss of her wild hair. Her eyes sparkling with the kind of glitter that you will find once in your life times, only if you are lucky.
The observer was scared of her. The observer tried to hide. But the full moon eventually always found her.
Sometimes the observer couldn't stand her. She couldn't stand how the girl could smile, dance, laugh like nothing mattered.
It took the observer way too much time to realise that the moon was scarred, cratered. That the moon was falling apart everyday. That meteors struck the moon everyday.
The observer had already turned down the hand that the girl had offered way too many times when she finally remembered that the moon had no light of its own.

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