I'm considering writing very short stories to help me relax when my major works begin to stress me out. But anyways, here's one. Tell me what you think.
Once, in a distant valley, there lived a night-blooming flower called Selene. She had the most radiant petals, but they only unfurled beneath the moonlight. During the day, she remained tightly closed, waiting for the cool embrace of the night.
The valley was also home to Zephyrus, a wandering wind. He claimed to love Selene dearly. "I move the clouds to shield you from the harsh sun," he whispered. "I keep the frost from settling on your leaves. I am always thinking of you."
But Selene rarely felt his touch. He was always elsewhere, rustling through forests, caressing distant rivers, whispering to flowers that bloomed in the sun. He returned only in brief, fleeting moments, his presence a passing breeze rather than a steady embrace.
"But I miss you," Selene said one night as he brushed against her petals. "I wait in the dark, longing for you, but you are never truly here."
Zephyrus sighed. "I am here in spirit. I do what I do for you."
Selene wilted slightly. "But is love a presence or a promise? If I am always waiting, am I truly loved? Or merely remembered?"
Zephyrus had no answer. He carried on with the wind, and Selene remained, rooted in her solitude, blooming for a lover who was never there to see.
