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Literature Text
Do we miss the Moon?
There once was a girl who lived in nothing. And she lived nowhere in her beautiful nothing. She talked to no one and she walked no place. She especially loved doing nothing special and continuously thought about not thinking.
She had a name, it was what it was, but I suppose that’s not important. Nothing here is all that important, rather; what is important is that she was. In every essence of the verb “to be” she was, is and will “be”. And yet she was not, she is not and will never be. The girl whose name is, was, and will always be unimportant, who lived nowhere in nothing and loved walking no place, had a pair of grey pants.
They were very un-special gray pants, and they were also very unimportant. Wearing the pants made the girl feel nothing and she liked them very much. A cat was involved, being an animal his name was, is and always will be, less important than the girl’s . And that was that, deep in the middle of nowhere in a massive nothing lived an un-special-gray-pant-wearing girl and a cat whose names where, are and always will be unimportant.
But wait? Aren’t we missing someone? Oh yes. . . The moon. The moon shined down bright on the nothing every night, the moon wasn’t ugly and the moon wasn’t blank. The moon wasn’t empty and the moon wasn’t unimportant. And sometimes on a clear night, the moon would shine so bright, that the girl, the one with the forever-unimportant name-who was, by the way, a no one-would become a someone. And the nothing that she resided in would transform into a something. The gray pants would become imaginably important and the cat, the one with an endlessly unimportant name-who was, by the way, a nobody, would become a somebody. But perhaps the most joyous thing of all was Nowhere; On extremely clear night Nowhere would become Somewhere, and Somewhere lead to Some place.
It was on these nights that the girl with an important name would walk outside of her something and star at the moon, for when the shining rays of hope it emitted transformed the Nowhere into Somewhere, they themselves had become Nothing. And in the Sky she saw only a hole. For on these nights the moon wasn’t anything, and the moon wasn’t full. As she looked up at the hole in the sky, where once the important moon lay, she said to herself, “I miss the moon”.
-Sage Brush Fire
© 2005 All Rights Reserved
There once was a girl who lived in nothing. And she lived nowhere in her beautiful nothing. She talked to no one and she walked no place. She especially loved doing nothing special and continuously thought about not thinking.
She had a name, it was what it was, but I suppose that’s not important. Nothing here is all that important, rather; what is important is that she was. In every essence of the verb “to be” she was, is and will “be”. And yet she was not, she is not and will never be. The girl whose name is, was, and will always be unimportant, who lived nowhere in nothing and loved walking no place, had a pair of grey pants.
They were very un-special gray pants, and they were also very unimportant. Wearing the pants made the girl feel nothing and she liked them very much. A cat was involved, being an animal his name was, is and always will be, less important than the girl’s . And that was that, deep in the middle of nowhere in a massive nothing lived an un-special-gray-pant-wearing girl and a cat whose names where, are and always will be unimportant.
But wait? Aren’t we missing someone? Oh yes. . . The moon. The moon shined down bright on the nothing every night, the moon wasn’t ugly and the moon wasn’t blank. The moon wasn’t empty and the moon wasn’t unimportant. And sometimes on a clear night, the moon would shine so bright, that the girl, the one with the forever-unimportant name-who was, by the way, a no one-would become a someone. And the nothing that she resided in would transform into a something. The gray pants would become imaginably important and the cat, the one with an endlessly unimportant name-who was, by the way, a nobody, would become a somebody. But perhaps the most joyous thing of all was Nowhere; On extremely clear night Nowhere would become Somewhere, and Somewhere lead to Some place.
It was on these nights that the girl with an important name would walk outside of her something and star at the moon, for when the shining rays of hope it emitted transformed the Nowhere into Somewhere, they themselves had become Nothing. And in the Sky she saw only a hole. For on these nights the moon wasn’t anything, and the moon wasn’t full. As she looked up at the hole in the sky, where once the important moon lay, she said to herself, “I miss the moon”.
-Sage Brush Fire
© 2005 All Rights Reserved
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I wrote this a long while ago and only rescently discovered how wonderful it was.
© 2006 - 2024 StevenLeonCooper
Comments9
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I really like the way this flows and the words used, they convey so much with out giving away too much.