Its lower lip trembled.
One day the moon dreamed of a magical lasso pulling it toward earth, anchored by a stoic looking cowboy, with gold plated chaps and a Louis Vuitton emblazoned satchel. It was one of those uncannily vivid dreams that seems too real to let go, and as it fades you feel as if you have lost a tiny, happy part of yourself. The moon felt that way now, its prize had been swallowed by a virulent type of space. The climax of a lost dream stolen, because you awake before reaching the best part.
The moon erupted ancient curdled cheese from it ears and began to sob.
***
Premnath was on his way home. Moisture fell from the sky. Rain? he wondered, but when he looked up there were no clouds.
1 comment:
Wow, some one pressed a button. I can't really say how shocking it is to see the tiniest form of feedback when the usual is nothing. Cheers
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