The sun is tired, and the man on the moon rises just in time for his job. He does his tricks and cranks up the lever until the astronomical body beneath his feet rises up and replaces the morning star. Once again, the world is under his dim and sentimental glow.
The people below are turning their lights on, mimicking his surroundings. Oddly enough, every star that surrounds him has a painted name-- each seemed to be owned by a lost soul.
Thousands of people talk to the moon every night, each one full of dreams and wishes. Little do they know that the moon is not a ginny nor a fairy. The moon is simply a light. No more, no less than the lamps in their nightstands.
But the man doesn't mind. He listens to all the stories that he can in a single night. And sometimes, when the night is long, he lies on his back, closes his eyes, and pretends to be a traveler. And the moon is his backpack filled with the stories of the human universe.
A child cries, and the man listens. He seems to be talking about a friend who has fallen into an eternal slumber. He told the moon stories of their adventure each night he couldn't sleep. The child can't help but wonder if his friend could also see a moon in his dreams... If his friend ever thought of talking about him too.
The man in the moon responds but whispers to himself, "In his sleep, he lives a life brighter than those that surround him. The moon will rise as long as the oceans continue to wave, and the birds continue to sing."
As the child grew up, he began to talk to the moon less. On his last visit, the child decided to unhook his anchor. Then after a few moments, he finally decided to sail. The man in the moon listens to the child's last farewell.
"There is a void in my heart where the world revolves just like how it used to... Where the sea would rise and fall in accordance to the moon, where my friend awakes to identify his name in the cosmos."
The man on the moon bids his goodbye. He watched the people below and smiled. He turns to the star on his right and says, "Heaven will never get tired of waiting for good souls."
The star beamed and replied, "I have found my place in the cosmos. Thank you for remembering me."
It is now time for the sun to wake up and do its job. The man in the moon then stood up and walked to his spot. He cranked down the lever, and the moon slowly descended back to its dark place-- a place where secrets glowed in its brightest.
The short story is written in 2019 as an entry to a zine in a college organization. It was written right after our dog & best friend, Jazz died.