Red Bloody Moon
Good Night My Moonbeam.
The twilight came, it painted the skyline with a mixture of orange, and yellow. The sun had kissed all of the flowers good night, and they were all fast asleep by now. In this moment the night owned the day; the mysterious night.
The young man stood by his windowsill, and watched the day darkening.
His room was becoming dim by the night's victory of the daylight.
A bed, a desk, a chair, and a window, what more could he ask for? Still his desires weren't fulfilled. He wanted a life without responsibility, to stray away when he wanted to, and to see the whole world.
Someone knocked on the door, it was a weak knock.
"You may come in," he said with a firm voice.
Slowly the doorknob was jogged down, and then the door was silently pushed. A tiny face was peeping from the narrow opening of the door.
"Mother says it's time to go to bed," it whispered.
He stared at the little face, then he grinned and said : "Come here my moonbeam."
The child pushed the door so the small crack became wider. The girl had golden curls, freckles that were covering every inch of her face, a pair of brown eyes, and a smile that was blessed by the sun. Tardily she moved forth. Her footsteps were soundless on the cold wooden floor.
"Blakechester?" she whispered.
"What is there Iris?" he was quite nervous by her being so still; this wasn't Iris at all.
Iris looked up on him as her eyes became watery.
"Iris, what is wrong?" he whispered in a insecure tone.
Iris sighed as the rivers licked the freckles on her cheeks. "You are going to leave us," she said while she glanced at the window, trying not to look at Blakechester's eyes; she was ashamed of all the tears she shed.
"If I ever get the opportunity to say farewell to Wolvestown, then I will," he got down on his knees so he was the same height as Iris, then he added: "But I would love to take you with me, and show you the wonders of the world."
She threw her arms around his neck, and she whooped of happiness.
"Now dear," he chuckled as he tapped her on her back.
"I am coming with you, and then we will go on our own adventures," she said in a very childish tone.
"Yes we will, but now you have to get some sleep," he was serious now. Blakechester got up on his feet, and lead Iris to her room.
It was darkening there too. On her night table there stood an old porcelain vase which he had given her, the bed was so small that it only took one person, the frame of the bed was white, and the white paint was beginning to peel of the frame.
Iris pulled the duvet to the end the bed, and jumped onto the cold mattress. He took the duvet and pulled it up to her chin, he bent down, and placed a kiss right on her forehead.
"My little moonbeam good night, good night," he sang sweetly in her ear.
"Good night," she sang back, and smiled to him.
He walked towards the door, pushed the knob down, and walked out of the room.
"Please leave the door on crack," she whined. Still she was afraid of all the monsters the old people used to frighten the children with.
"Yes I will," he replied.
The young man stood by his windowsill, and watched the day darkening.
His room was becoming dim by the night's victory of the daylight.
A bed, a desk, a chair, and a window, what more could he ask for? Still his desires weren't fulfilled. He wanted a life without responsibility, to stray away when he wanted to, and to see the whole world.
Someone knocked on the door, it was a weak knock.
"You may come in," he said with a firm voice.
Slowly the doorknob was jogged down, and then the door was silently pushed. A tiny face was peeping from the narrow opening of the door.
"Mother says it's time to go to bed," it whispered.
He stared at the little face, then he grinned and said : "Come here my moonbeam."
The child pushed the door so the small crack became wider. The girl had golden curls, freckles that were covering every inch of her face, a pair of brown eyes, and a smile that was blessed by the sun. Tardily she moved forth. Her footsteps were soundless on the cold wooden floor.
"Blakechester?" she whispered.
"What is there Iris?" he was quite nervous by her being so still; this wasn't Iris at all.
Iris looked up on him as her eyes became watery.
"Iris, what is wrong?" he whispered in a insecure tone.
Iris sighed as the rivers licked the freckles on her cheeks. "You are going to leave us," she said while she glanced at the window, trying not to look at Blakechester's eyes; she was ashamed of all the tears she shed.
"If I ever get the opportunity to say farewell to Wolvestown, then I will," he got down on his knees so he was the same height as Iris, then he added: "But I would love to take you with me, and show you the wonders of the world."
She threw her arms around his neck, and she whooped of happiness.
"Now dear," he chuckled as he tapped her on her back.
"I am coming with you, and then we will go on our own adventures," she said in a very childish tone.
"Yes we will, but now you have to get some sleep," he was serious now. Blakechester got up on his feet, and lead Iris to her room.
It was darkening there too. On her night table there stood an old porcelain vase which he had given her, the bed was so small that it only took one person, the frame of the bed was white, and the white paint was beginning to peel of the frame.
Iris pulled the duvet to the end the bed, and jumped onto the cold mattress. He took the duvet and pulled it up to her chin, he bent down, and placed a kiss right on her forehead.
"My little moonbeam good night, good night," he sang sweetly in her ear.
"Good night," she sang back, and smiled to him.
He walked towards the door, pushed the knob down, and walked out of the room.
"Please leave the door on crack," she whined. Still she was afraid of all the monsters the old people used to frighten the children with.
"Yes I will," he replied.