“Time for bed” whispers the sun to the moon.

“Oh, but I’m not tired yet. Come watch with me for a while. Just a little while. I want you to see people at their best.”

The sun looked down at the earth, and saw a woman screaming at her mirror, and a man ripping at his hair, quietly crying at the stars out his window.
The sun did not understand. He saw no light here.

“But they are suffering,” he says, as a man and woman claw at each other in their car, and a baby screams from its crib while the mother pours herself another glass of wine.

“Look again,” says the moon. “You must always look again.”

Now the woman screaming in the mirror was caressing a man’s shoulders as they danced quietly. The gentleman pulling at his hair had it brushed back, and was singing softly to his little girl while she slept in his arms.
The couple in their car were inside, muttering apologies in between kisses and sheets.
The baby was sleeping in mother’s lap, and the wine was poured down the drain.

“One thing I’ve learned from the dark,” says the moon, “is that people are at their best directly after they are at their worst. They still, through all the sadness that I bring, know how to save themselves.”

With that, the moon went back to sleep as the sun took its place in the sky, watching the small miracles that took place just before the dawn.

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