The sun was gone, the stars were screaming into the endless void, the hooded figures were humming ominously, and Carlos and Cecil were cuddling in bed. This was fairly normal for them, considering that they were dating.
They were on the edge between sleep and consciousness, as most are, when Carlos broke the almost-silence by saying, "Cecil, have you ever truely wondered about the moon before?"
"Why do you ask, Carlos?" came the sleepy reply.
"I was thinking about how my mother used to say she loved me to the moon and back. But here, that's the sort of thing that is very literal, isn't it? Anyway, I was just curious."
"Well," Cecil said, beginning to adopt the tone he used when asked what he thought were very odd questions, "when my mother said such things to me, I would normally demand that she prove it in one way or another. 'Cecil, I love you to the endless abyss of space and back,' she would tell me. 'How come?' or, 'Prove it!' were my favorite responses to that. She eventually grew fed up with those replies, and stopped adding things to the end of her 'I love you's."
"But, did she ever prove it?" Carlos asked.
"Not that I recall," Cecil replied.
"Well, if you ever doubt that I love you to the moon and stars and howling abyssal void and back, I will be willing to prove it to you, once I have developed a way to go there without dying," Carlos grinned.
"And I'm sure you will, with your science," Cecil said. "But, to answer your original question, no. The moon shall likely remain a mystery which will haunt our dreams and waking lives."
"Good to know," Carlos said, snuggling deeper into the blankets, and slowly drifting back to almost-sleep.
The moon was mysterious, the stars unreachable and frozen, and Carlos and Cecil were cuddling in bed.
