The Devil Who Danced At Midnight

p a r a l u m a n

paraluman

(n.) a muse or inspiration

xxx

A tall man in his thirties climbs up the stage. An applause is given

by the audience, specially from his beautiful wife sitting in the third
row. The man receives the plaque, and together with the people
behind the award-giving body for literature, they pose
for the camera. The man smiles, although not too brightly,
and is told to give his speech of gratitude. He walks a few steps
forward, and reaches for the microphone.

"I will try not to make this too dramatic, since this is not the Oscar's
and I am not Leonardo," he jokes, and the audience laughs lightly.
"But since I am not exactly fond of writing, and is only good at
analyzing literary pieces than making them, this is a big surprise
for me. I am thanking my lovely wife, Mia, for bearing with my
ever-changing mood and bringing me coffee that kept me
writing during those nights. To our kids, Anne and William,
please appreciate your names in the future and thank classical
literature for that and of course..."

He pauses, and stares at a blank space somewhere in the auditorium.
"To you, the only reason why I wrote and won among all other pieces.
To you, who persevered alone and to you, love, who will always be
my moon until the last piece of matter on this lowly Earth disappears."

xxx

Somewhere in Florida, a woman leans back on her chair comfortably,
appreciating solitude. She gives a heavy sigh, then smiles, as a young
boy in his tenth year approaches her. He shows his mother an illustration
he drew ten minutes before coming to her arms, and gives
her more reasons to smile.

Caius had drawn the skies.

"Mama," the boy says, as he is a fast-learner, now adopting to
the conditions of his new environment and speaks in the
same language. "I am this star, and you are this moon."

She smiles, and hugs Caius.

"Yes," she confirms. "I am the moon, and you are our star."

And he will forever be the world to me, she wans to add,
but shrugs the idea, for Caius can only have one moon
and one Earth.

And the boy has already Ezekiel for the latter.

xxx

The Unlovely Tale of the Moon and the Earth
Richard Faulkerson Jr., MAES

An excerpt

At that moment, the Earth wondered if he could abandon the sun because 
as long as he was with the Moon - his moon - he could forever live in darkness, 
in solitude, in silence.

He knew that the sweet oblivion coming from her soft light 
was all he ever wanted in his life.

Unfortunately, wanting is much, much different from needing...

... so the Earth finally chose the Sun he couldn't live without.

He finally got tired of chasing the Moon when all it
wanted to do is to be pretty, poetic, and private.

So the Earth could only leave the Moon,
stare at her from afar,
write her verses,

and love her silently,

secretly,
but endlessly.

And that love killed the Earth, making the Moon the murderer -
his murderer. He had knives on his chest, and hands on

his throat. He felt the danger of falling over a cliff;

he became short of the air he breathes.

He experienced everything ugly.
He was restrained, his wrists chained,

his heart locked.

He was everything imperfect.

And finally, as the Earth came to his last breath,
dying out of love unsaid and kept in the shadows,
he stared up at his beautiful Moon
and basked himself in her light,
smiling...

...because it was the prettiest and softest way to die.