Instalment One Hundred and Thirteen



The Earth one day, through no fault of its own, fell in love with the Sun. A shiny, blond beacon with fire in its belly and a glint it its eye, the Sun’s warmth was like a siren song to the cold and lonely Earth. Like all those in love, hopeless, unrequited love, the Earth coyly circled the object of its affection from afar. If the Sun was there, the Earth was likely caught in its orbit, hoping to be noticed, hoping the Sun would shine some affection down on it. What the Earth would have given for a beaming smile, or even just a simple nod, that would nourish the earth down to its very core.

Like a little lost dog the Earth followed the Sun around, and around, and around. Until one day the Earth noticed there were others, others fighting for the Sun’s affections too, some bigger and better looking. The Earth spun widely out of control.

The poor Moon, as far gone for the Earth as the Earth was for the Sun, could only reflect the Sun’s brilliance, a pale ghostly imitation that won it no favour, was left alone to moon over its lost love.

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