Like every single night, there it was again—up in the sky, cheering up the grim night. Round and shiny, silent like a tomb. "The Moon," the humans called it. The animals of the farm knew its name, but they weren't sure of what it really was.
What was its purpose?
When was it born?
What had they done so wrong that it wouldn't talk to them one word?
So many unanswered questions. The Moon certainly was a mystery—one only a handful of the farm animals cared about. As for this curious bunch, they gathered behind the chicken coop once a week to discuss their findings. "The Moon Club," the others had dubbed them.
Tom and Arnie, the pigs, as stubborn as they were, insisted that the Moon was just an illusion crafted by humans. After all, they loved shiny illusions—they stared at them for hours on that magic box they called "Tee-bee."
Old Luke, the hound, was a more rational fella. For him, the answers they were looking for didn't rely solely on the Moon itself, but also on its big brother the Sun. However, he was a massive fan of the Sun, and they all knew he would say anything to bring it to the conversation.
Then there was Eddy, the goat. He didn't really care about the matter (or anything else in particular). He just attended because the feeder was nearby, and it was a sound excuse to eat off-hours.
The animals would ramble for hours about the same theories again and again. As for Elsa, the cow, she sat in the grass, staring at the Moon. She had an itching fascination with its bright, pale light as if the Moon sang her a peaceful, entrancing lullaby.
No matter how much the other animals tried to figure it out, for Elsa, the answers lay beyond the gates of the Farm.
Far, far beyond.
Humans were curious creatures—Elsa knew that well. Every afternoon, she walked all the way from the barn to the Farmer's house. She walked slowly and steadily, careful not to make that thing hanging from her neck to clank and alert anybody. With time, she had mastered the arts of sneaking.
Once at the house, Elsa peered through the living room window. There, the Farmer sat on the couch, gazing at Tee-bee. It was as shiny as the Moon, except that it talked in many different voices. Elsa always wondered why Tee-bee had such a loose tongue while the Moon was so silent. Maybe the Moon just couldn't speak. Perhaps it was like Randy, the tree, and his siblings, the grass, who were born mute.
YOU ARE READING
The Cow and The Moon: An Illustrated Story ✔Adventure
Once a week, a group of farmyard animals gathers to theorize about that huge, glowing ball in the sky humans call "The Moon." Some of them believe it's an illusion, some of them believe it's alive, and others think it's a place somewhere in the sky...