MOONCHILD
M oon.
One, two, three deep breaths. As the
cold night air seeped into her lungs,
cooling her blood, the anger turned to
desperation. Tears blinded her eyes, as
she just lay there, looking at the dark
sky. Lit up by nothing but the
occasional star peering out of the clouds.
The dark clouds were similar to the ones
inside her. It was the day of the New
moon, and the darkness of the sky
reflected her inner turmoil.
The earth’s satellite, orbiting around
earth continuously.
Moon.
Considered feminine; a universal
representation of the rhythm of time.
Moon.
Symbolizes immortality and eternity.
Some believe she is a spirit, who bends
water backward and forward, causing
the changing tides, while others call her
Luna, the moon goddess, the
complement to the sun god. Some say
looking at the moon makes people
mad, and that she represents the dark
side of nature.
To her, however, Luna was a friend.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
She stormed up the stairs, throwing the
gates to the terrace open. Anger
thrumming in her veins, she went up
the ladder and plopped down on top of
the water tank.
98
“Looks like someone else is feeling
down today as well”, she joked weakly
to herself and chuckled slightly. The
weak laugh soon turned into quiet sobs.
The pressure was too much to bear, and
she burst out, crying her heart out. And
just when she thought she could no
longer breathe, the first drop fell on top
of her, and as she looked up, another
drop splattered over her nose.
Soon, it started raining from above. And
as she was being drenched to the bone, a
sense of calm enveloped her. The moon
was crying with her. For her.