On a world of the twenty-five hour day, of a thirty-three minute hour, it is approaching midnight. Their moon casts down its silver reflection like the lining of a proverbial cloud. It highlights the lone figure who is on a secret, solitary mission.
On this world of the believer – a deep-seated religion in the hearts and minds of men – the moon is the only witness to a broken rule. Its white glow highlights the slender hand that picks of the forbidden fruit. Its silver cast glistens in the tears on the girl’s cheeks, turning each drop of moisture into a precious jewel.
This world also has its stories and its fables, a tale told to children of a ‘man in the moon’, and it seems as though this mythical being is grinning at the tragic scene played out before it. All because of a belief that suffering has meaning, and endurance shall earn its own reward, in a place they call Empyrean.
, Short Story