Moon over Sun

It's late. It's dark outside. The half-moon stares at her through the window. Weary, she closes her eyes. Her body rises, of its own accord. The silky, blue dress she's wearing drapes off her body, reaching for the floor. She floats off the floor. Through the glass. Out the window. The moon fades into a blue sky where the sun asserts his dominion. Fleetingly, the few remaining stars follow their mistress back into the darkness where they reign in their own right. The time is not their own anymore. It is hers. She wants the sun. She wants the heat emanating from him as he warms the earth below her. Through her closed eyes, she sees the rolling hills and the tempestuous seas below her. Miles and miles and miles. Through her closed eyes, her beautiful blue dress becomes one with the ocean. Miles and miles and miles. A sigh escapes. Bliss. Pleasure. Light. The sweet fragrance of newly budding plumeria waft around her, twirling her ocean dress around her.

Through her closed eyes, she can see the dark seep in slowly. It's coming in through a tiny corner in the bottom of the sky. She sees the stars radiating their power, banded together in an effort to overtake the sun in all his glory. She feels the anxiety flowing from the moon, as she watches from a safe place. This is not right. It is not her time. The stars finally push the darkness over the blue of the sky. She is falling. Miles and miles and miles.

I open my eyes. I sit behind the desk at Thatcher South. Sigh. Oh, to be home and away from all the drudgery that is winter.