The Light Between Us

Each evening, Sun lingered at the edge of the world, hoping to catch one glimpse of Moon.

She had so much to tell him: how the sea had glittered that morning, how a child had opened both hands to the warmth, how even the smallest leaf had made room for light.

But whenever Moon rose, her own path was already carrying her beyond the horizon.

“Must I stop shining to stay beside you?” she whispered.

Moon heard her through the hush between day and night.

“I would never ask you to become less,” he said. “Your light is part of what I love.”

So Sun began leaving small gifts in the world: warmth in a garden wall, gold along a cloud, a last bright thread upon the water.

And Moon found them. He laid silver beside her gold. He watched over the sleeping garden. He made a path across the sea for anyone who needed a little light in the dark.

They could not keep the sky from turning. Yet the turning no longer felt like an ending.

One evening, a girl standing by the shore saw Sun low in the west and Moon pale above the water. For a moment, both were there.

“Look,” she said. “They are sharing the sky.”

Sun smiled. Moon shone a little brighter.

And in that brief, quiet meeting, neither asked the other to stay. They simply recognised the light they had been leaving for each other all along.

Love had found a way to reach across the distance.