A Cool Breeze's Comfort
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It’s been so long since the sun rose…

It is a cold still night tonight, and there is a house resting amongst trees on the coast of a lake. A cool, whistling breeze blows through, causing gentle ripples in the water as the moonlight gleams down onto its surface. Two oaken rowboats peacefully bob up and down next to a pier. They’re both coated in dead leaves. If one were to sit among them, they would hear the wind whispering stories in their ears.

Emily stands in the grass amongst the night, feeling the cool air tenderly blow against her face. She hears it whisper of a faraway place where the sun shines bright, and the boats row freely in the lake. She’s heard this story many times, but she is not here to listen to stories. Instead, she has come to spend time with the moon.

It stands all alone in its realm of darkness. The stars have departed for better skies.

Where have they all gone? She wonders, fiddling with a small doll as the cool breeze chills her hands. As it does, it begins to whisper a different story. In the story, the sun is shining once again, and there is food on a picnic table. The doll is being swayed from side to side as if it were dancing, and there are people laughing nearby. The moon is nowhere to be seen.

Another story, from another place, she thinks, tears welling in her eyes. But that place is not here anymore.

She turns her gaze from the moon for a moment, and instead gives it to the doll, staring at it for a long while. As she does, the wind begins growing stronger, eventually turning from a whistling breeze into a howling squall. It whips against her hands, chilling them almost to the point of numbness. She looks back to the moon, and sees that while the wind blows frantically in every direction, the moon is unrelenting in its stance.

I suppose there’s a decision to be made, then.

It watches as she steps out of the grass and down the pier with the doll in her hands, the wind screaming at her the whole way there. She stops just at the edge, looking down at the boats covered in dead leaves. The wind is blowing directly against her now, desperately trying to push her away. But she is unrelenting in her stance.

Lowering herself to her knees, she gently rests the doll amidst the long dead foliage.

And suddenly, the wind stops blowing.

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