Under the Moonlight

16

The girl had finally encountered someone of her own kind living near a cabin in the heart of the woods, bereft of the world it lived in, after wandering for so long into the huge expanse of nature.

As the girl reached the cabin's door, it suddenly opened on itself.

"Good morning," said the girl courteously.

"Good morning," said the poet with delight.

"What do you do here?" the girl asked.

"Ah! Well, I live here." the poet replied.

"Oh! Your house looked odd."

The girl then burst into laughter. The poet, meanwhile, felt mocked by it.

"Ah well, it is my home!" the poet said, "it deters out predators from ever reaching me, and with my home, I feel safe."

"And those predators are?"

"Those who lurk in the deepest parts of the forest." the poet said, "everyone has a place to call home, don't they?"

The girl nodded slowly before realization struck her.

"I didn't know everyone has a place to call home."

"That's because not all homes are houses." the poet replied.

"Then what is a home?" the girl asked.

"Where you feel the most comfortable."

The girl was left aswoon as she stood quietly.

"What do you do here?" the girl brought up the question once more.

"I do poetry," the poet said, "I speak in riddles and express what I please."

"To whom do you write them for?" demanded the girl.

"To the people that I love." the poet replied.

"And where are those people that you love?"

"I do not know I'm afraid," the poet said, "so long as I write my poem down."

While sorting out the stacks of poems the poet has had inside the cabin, he then proceeded to hand the girl an envelope over.

"What is this?" the girl asked.

"Something to read in whenever you feel in disarray," the poet said, "everyone has things to do to keep themselves sane, is it not?"

"But–"

"Ah, indeed." the poet interrupted, "you must only open the envelope in the most dreadful of circumstances when you believe insanity is upon you."

The girl had left without a word to speak to.