Lunacy

Sighing, the moon looked down towards a small house standing in the midst of trees, far away from the big, industrious cities that seemed to sprout from the ground quicker than the most malevolent of mushrooms.

“I think it’s time for me to go. I’ve slowly been going crazy for hundreds of years,” said the moon. It looked sad, but it was hard to tell through the many clouds trying to obscure his face.

“Going crazy, sir?” questioned a child, “How can the moon be crazy?”

The moon shook back and forth, as if shaking its grand head. “I used to believe this world was a place of magic, but it is no longer.”

His young companion blinked sleepily upwards, confused at the moon’s obvious mistake, “Of course there’s still magic, there’s magic all around!” he cried out, slightly indignant. The child shuffled a bit, gathering his blanket a bit closer around in an attempt to stay warm near his open window as the candle next to him had long since burnt out.

“No, my child… Magic is leaving this world, ever so slowly. I’ve seen it.” Again, the moon shook, this time looking even sadder than it did before. “Fewer and fewer people can see the way things truly are represented. They look around and see only darkness, bitterness, greed and loneliness. It’s as if adul ts are slowly losing their minds as they were forced to lose their youth. But it’s steadily getting worse than that as time passes. And it passesâ… Ever so slowly, but it does.”

“But, Mr. Moon, there’s still magic, there’s still stories and there’s still people who believe in them.”

“Are there, my child? Precious few, these days, let me tell you. It’s been an age since I even spoke to anyone but you. And I’m afraid, my child, that you are the very last person I shall ever speak to. Did you know some adults are planning to live on my face?” The moon quite definitely frowned at this idea.

The child sat up a little more straightly as he thought about that idea. “I know that, Mr. Moon, but I doubt there’s anything that’s going to stop them. Adults never know when to stop and take a step back to just enjoy things anymore.”

“It’s disturbing, you know. Would you want ants building homes on your forehead? I don’t think so. But alas, one cannot escape the advance of time. One can only wish wistfully for days gone by, nights where I still captured the hearts and minds of youth and adults alike.” And with this, the moon shook again as it heaved a heavy sigh.

“I shouldn’t be lingering where I’m wanted no longer. I’m sorry, my child. I hope you can forgive my lunacy,” said the moon, one last time. And it stilled forevermore.