sneakers waving in midair, the little boy sat dangling his feet off of his house's rooftop.
his cheeks and nose were burnt red like roses had bloomed from within, only due to the cold night wind, yet all he had on was a thin white blouse and a velvet cardigan on top, his long, but frail legs wrapped in the warm and cozy fabric of his trousers, and a small grey scarf circling his neck.
breaths of glittering snow escaped his lips steadily, but his eyes remain still.
casted shadows from his eyelashes fell over his pale complexion, but his eyes remain still.
his brown hair ruffled and worn from the gentle, yet freezing gusts, but his eyes remain still.
still upon the moon in the sky.
still upon its hazy beams of light showered upon patches of night, turning pitch black into a beautiful lavender shade.
still upon the sprinkled stigmas of stars, which seemed less obvious as they come towards the moon, but either way, he wasn't bothered.
the glassy porcelain surface of that giant orb hovering above those hills from afar — now, that's a wonder. he could almost feel its coldness pressed against his fingers, for how lonesome and cold one's soul must be, without anyone beside him.
an empty soul, perhaps, maybe the moon is hollow. would the sound reverberate if he knocked?
wondering on and on, and he couldn't stop. questions that can never be answered, mother said, what foolish thoughts.
he will chase down the moon.
because,
"never mind what they call me. my name is moon boy, and the moon and i are one."
YOU ARE READING
moon boy.
Short Storydiscontinued. // and he stretched out his legs and ran, as if to meet the moon for the first and last time.
