Road To The Moon [one-minute stories]

Your Day Is My Night

Pacing throughout the room I can feel the corset squishing me, hear the caroline ticking against the wooden floor with each step I take. Why must a British lady be subjected to such torturous fashion?

In all my life I never thought of the why? I wouldn't dare devy the established order of London's high society. It was simply how life was supposed to be. Oh, how dimwitted I was.

Unaware of kingdoms where women wear silken hanboks with flowing skirts supported by soft petticoats, and short cotton vests that bound their chest. Now, that I experienced such comfort it is impossible to be laced up in another corest without asking why.

"This whole experience has made me deviant," I sigh as I lean on my writingdesk. The paper of your letters still holds fragments of your scent. A bittersweet parfum of lost love. Knowing such feelings exist in this world has made me question why I would live without it. I don't even think I can live without it.

A forthnight ago I thought I heard you sigh in your sleep, like you did that night. It was a sound akin to a melody even the greatest master could not have composed.
In my dreams I can still feel the warmth of your arms around me, pulling me flush against your silken robe; gold and crimson like the sun. My heart has been burned by the golden dragon. With one breath you ignited a flame in me that can never be extinguished. It turned me into the woman I ought not to be; driven by feelings of longing and passion beyond reason.

Gone my chastity, forgotten my modesty; deving all that society thought me. But no matter what I do, I cannot travel east like the sun. I cannot share your bed or bare your children.

Our love can not exist in my world, nor yours.

Romeo and Juliet were separated by their families fieut , Tristan and Isolde by an oath. But we are separated by the world. Once I sail to England, we become like Gyeonwu and Jiknyeo stuck on the edges of the milky way.

I want someone with me when the sun gives way to the stars and when it returns to reignite the colours of the daytime. All I want is your kisses, your hugs and that smile I can see in your eyes. Be my rest, be my Sunday best and together will be each other's comfort in any storm.

But I must be content with your letters carried by the doves between us.