The Sun becomes besotted with the Moon, and she with him. When he asks her to leave her place in the sky to come revolve around him forever, an identity crisis ensues.
Related Essay: “Sticking to Our Guns”
In a patriarchal system, men expect that women will follow them to the ends of the Earth. This mindset no longer applies, right?
Note to customers: Once you complete the transaction, you will be forwarded to a thank-you page, where you can download the story to your device.
“Hallooooo!” shouted Master Sun to Ms. Moon, as the faintest shimmer of silver appeared in his field of vision.
“I can’t hear you yet!” she shouted back. “You’ll have to wait until I get closer!”
“What?” he said, raising his voice, sending a wave of warmth over her surface even with the considerable distance between them. Oh, for goodness’ sake, she thought, smiling. How about a little patience? He seemed to get the message, though, because he waited a few more days before attempting communication again.
“Here you are,” he said, as she approached.
“Yes, here I am, Master Sun,” she said. “Do I err when I say that your brilliance glows stronger than ever today?”
“It is quite possible,” he said. “I feel a special flush whenever you draw near.”
“That’s lovely of you to say.”
“It is not lovely, merely true.”
“I bet you say that to all the Moons.”
“No, no,” he countered, “there is but one of you, so glistening, so luminous as to make a Sun dream of light in salacious ways.”
“Salacious, you say? My sterling ways just may turn copper!”
“Is that so? Come closer, my precious one.”…
To continue reading, please purchase and download the story.