Random stories I randomly write/think about

Romanticizing Moonlight

The faceless woman would feel as if all of her days merged together like watercolour blobs. It was the feeling of the sun digging its feet into the ground to stall and taunt her that allowed her to have a distaste for the burning star that was millions of kilometres away from her. Days like that always sucked. She found it funny, most people rely on the sun to laugh hysterically while blasting down melanoma enhancing rays of golden and deadly UV rays. It's an endless cycle. She loved the rain though it wasn't always guaranteed to be there. No, the only thing she can count on was the moon.

Its silver rays make the aluminium of her car glisten. The oranges and pinks that the moon would soon follow painted the sky a multitude of breathtaking colours. She loved summer, it let her bask in the moonlight all night without the harsh repercussions of winter back lashing winds and death-defying temperatures. Whenever she found time, she would fantasise about the myth of the moon and the sun's love.

Romanticising the moon and sun once being humans, a tale of forbidden love, tragedy, bargaining and an eternity of the excruciating pain of being separated. Every time the faceless woman remembered the ending, the cycle of insufferable UV rays biting at her supple, pale skin. 

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A/N soooo... this is so shitty but for my literature class, we had to write a short story based on one of our favourite songs, guess which one this is based on.