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Rated: E · Short Story · Romance/Love · #1498617
This story was a gift for two friends of mine, for this year`s Christmas.
—愛 の 光 線—



The clear summer sky was strewn with stars and somewhere at one end, as usually neither quite at the center, nor quite at the end but somewhere in the unspecified black, hung the moon and illuminated the little house.

The window had no curtain and the tender moonlight was penetrating inside and illuminating the bedroom.

And on the windowsill were sitting and talking two moon rays.

Of course, “two moon rays” is not quite precise. Naturally, they were sun rays on their way towards the moon and forwarded here.

The two rays sat on the windowsill and talked. One of them was a pessimist, though not to the extent of being a negative ray: it thought that making their way some 350,000 km longer and the fact that almost no one saw them, made them inferior to their confreres that reached here during the day.

The other one, on the contrary, was optimistic, and, naturally, a positive moon ray. It thought, as the custom was, that it had been chosen for a special and elite mission and that the small detour that they covered in one second meant only longer life for them.

“But look, we are sitting on the windowsill and chatting, instead of pushing back from it so that people can see it. Because there are no people to see,” the pessimistic ray said sullenly.

The optimist, smiling, shook its head.

“It’s not so, cousin. At least, exactly the fact that there is no one to see us, allows us to sit for a while and have a word.

Indeed, only during the periods when there was no one to look, the rays could halt and take some rest. And have a word.

“And even if they spot us,” the optimist continued, “they won’t see this green windowsill in its usual colors, but in our, gained from the moon, beautiful silvery. We, unlike our cousins in the daytime, put our own colors on things and make them unique and different for the night.

However, the pessimistic ray would not give up easily. It kept silent for a while, yes, it turned its eyes towards the stars and looked over its small distant relatives, the star rays.

They traveled enormous distances and many of them ended up their long journeys tired and miniature, while their stars had probably already vanished and ceased existing, unlike them. Only sometimes, if you listened closely, you could hear their quite, doleful songs, drifting for light years of space towards this small planet.

The instant passed and the pessimistic ray frowned again.

“Besides, what are we actually doing here? Why do we give light to people? Why are we being sent out, to show the world and disappear after that? You know we won’t be in the morning, don’t you?”

“Yes,” the optimistic ray agreed easily, “in the morning you and I will be gone, for ever, the way our cousins have vanished hours before. Each of us has a short life, one night or one day.

“But this night will be short,” the pessimistic ray said. Indeed, it was summer time. Just two or three more hours and the sun would rise.

The optimistic ray smiled.

“Nevertheless, we have one night. One night to complete our mission.”

“But why? Why are we here? Why can’t we make our own decision what to do, but should follow conditions designed beforehand?”

“Because we are rays, cousin. Our only and single purpose is to show people the charm of light and to make their life more beautiful. As our cousins show them the bright colors of day, so we in our turn reveal to them the mystic silver shades of night: each one with its own message and purpose.”

The pessimistic ray grunted out sarcastically.

“They too, like us, have their own purposes,” the optimistic ray went on. “They have their problems and hesitations. And often their way is designed beforehand, and no matter what they do, they won’t change the universe.” It paused for a moment and then went on. “However, the true meaning of our existence is not to discover ourselves or to change the Universe, but to just play our role in it. People have various abilities: to create, to construct, to evolve, but their genuine gift is to live. While we, we only have one ability: to shine. And to make people’s life, the performance of their single genuine ability, be something more beautiful and unblemished.

It became silent again and listened to the songs of the star rays. Then it continued:

“We too, like those little brothers of ours, carry a message from somewhere. We show people the moon. And although we will be gone tomorrow, our truth, our heritage is in the moon which received us generously and sent us this way for good, because when people look at the moon and say “How beautiful it is!”, part of that beauty will be our work.

The pessimistic ray finally nodded. On the one hand, it had become tired of arguing, on the other hand, the night was short, and on the third hand, however difficult it was for it to admit, its cousin was right.

Inside the house, the girl sleeping in the bed rose a little.

“Come on, it’s time…”

“But she hasn't looked yet,” the pessimistic ray said pointlessly.

“Never mind,”, its optimistic cousin smiled, took it by the hand and led it upwards through the windowpane.



The girl rose and looked out the window. The moon shone smiling over the little city.

“How beautiful it is,” she said to her beloved sleeping beside her.



Meanwhile two moon rays had reclined in her pupils. They were happy.





© Translated by Valentin Krustev
© Copyright 2008 B. Cross (nem13 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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