The light pushes back the stars, eliminating every light from the heavens before it reveals itself.
The village lights twinkle in the hillside as the darkness approaches, and recedes. It falls back like the ocean tide, crashing endlessly upon the shore.
The light comes slowly. I can smell it before it appears in the distance. I sigh with relief at the first hint of day and look up as the moon’s silvery face fades into morning. I watch her go. Her light fades as the approaching one ascends and she moves back, giving him room. She is no longer required so she curtsies as she exits the stage.
Few people in the village know that day is coming. They sleep and dream of better times, but they do not see them approaching. They wander in the paths of sleep searching, searching, searching. They search for what they know not. They have been asleep for so long they have forgotten how to awaken.
A single messenger runs from house to house, bringing the good news of the approaching day. An approaching day after such a long night. But he is seldom greeted. If the villagers happen to awaken and come to the door they hear without belief. It has been dark so long they cannot imagine day. They cannot imagine any life apart from that which they have lived for so long.
The messenger goes from door to door begging the inhabitants to answer. He shouts the news from the doorstep, from under the windows. He tries to break in and share the news, but the inhabitants sleep on.
They sleep and dream of the darkness and the light. They imagine better times and life the way it was supposed to be. But they have no idea that this very life is here.
One believes the messenger and gets dressed quickly. I listen to the wind as she brings me tidings of the villagers and listen to the hope as it spreads. Now there are two.
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