I went out for a walk after work. It was around 6:30, the sidewalk was busy with people. The sun was still bright and I could still feel the gentle warmth of its rays. Across the sky, the moon was already out, glowing demurely and quietly waiting for her turn to shine. I heard fragments of conversations as people walked by. But I like to think one of them sounded like this.
“I love this time of year, we have a lot more time together.”
“I wish it was like this all the time. That was a long winter. These long summer days are wonderful. It’s the only time of the year when I can linger and play with you. The days are lonely without you.”
“The nights are lonely without you too. The mornings are so rushed, we rarely have any time together. You must have had another good day, I see so many buds and flowers ready to bloom.”
“A couple more weeks and a lot of the flowers be in full bloom. Then people will start complaining about the heat and blame me for getting skin cancer.”
“I know, humans are so fickle. They blame me for their lunacy. Only the artists appreciate me.”
“Let’s just enjoy the next couple of hours together. I’ll dazzle you with an amazing colours tonight before I leave.”
“Good, I’ll need the inspiration. I have quite a few insomniacs to keep company every night.”