"Do you think the world is black and white? well, it's half right total darkness can exist but total light can't, there's always going to be a shadow somewhere"
Felix's eyes on the other's face listening to all the bullshit coming from his mouth, as...
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Each dawn, the sun burns the moon’s delicate dust into ashes, a painful reminder of their tragic love, celestial blaze that turns night into day, yet never allows their eternal longing to find solace.
The boy sat on the cool, damp sand, his gaze fixed on the dark expanse before him. The waves moved with a languid grace, rolling toward the shore with a gentle rhythm. Each wave stretched out, reaching the land with a tender, frothy kiss, only to pull back into the ocean’s embrace. The shore remained wet and glistening, a silent witness to the endless cycle of arrival and retreat, always left yearning for the next touch.
He followed the waves’ intimate dance, mesmerized by their constant approach and retreat. The gentle caress of the waves seemed to whisper a timeless tale of closeness and distance, of fleeting encounters and endless waiting. The shore, forever damp and longing, was a testament to the beauty in their repeated, unfulfilled meetings.
As the boy watched the waves, his gaze gradually shifted upward to the night sky. The moon hung low and solitary, its pale light casting a soft sheen over the water.
It seemed to float in a sea of darkness, surrounded by distant stars that sparkled with indifferent brilliance. The moon’s lonely presence struck him deeply, its solitude stark against the vast, empty expanse.
He imagined the moon’s quiet yearning, always watching the sun from afar. The moon’s light, though soft and soothing, seemed tinged with melancholy. It hovered there, waiting for the rare moment when it could embrace the sun in a fleeting, annual eclipse.
The rest of the time, it remained isolated, its brilliance obscured by the vast distance that separated it from its celestial counterpart.
The boy's thoughts wandered, reflecting on the cruel nature of this separation. “It must be so lonely,” he mused, feeling a pang of empathy for the moon’s unending vigil. “Always waiting, always longing for that brief moment when it can finally meet the sun.”
He could almost feel the tension in the moon’s light, an aching anticipation for the rare moment when it could finally meet the sun. The boy was captivated by this celestial drama, moved by the notion of such an eternal, yet ephemeral connection.
But as he continued to stare at the moon, a sudden wave of self awareness washed over him.The realization slowly crept into his mind, a sense of absurdity mingling with his reflection. He blinked, shaking his head slightly. “What am I doing?” he muttered, a touch of disbelief in his voice. “Why am I feeling so sorry for the moon? It’s just a moon.”
Just a fucking moon!
He rubbed his face, trying to dispel the odd mix of emotions that had overtaken him. “Getting all worked up about a celestial body,” he thought, a rueful smile forming. “It’s just part of the universe’s design, not something to get emotional over.”
The waves continued their soothing dance, their rhythm a steady, comforting presence amidst his swirling thoughts. The boy watched them, trying to find solace in their persistent, tender interactions. “I’m being ridiculous,” he said softly to himself, shaking his head. He realised,The moon, while captivating, was simply a part of the grand cosmic routine, and he found himself both amused and slightly embarrassed by his own overactive imagination.
