Today’s picture prompt was sent in by writer-friend Stuart Nager, and the word prompt (the bolded out part of the story in the beginning) I chose to go with it came from Christine Rains.
—–
—–
The Moon was broken.
They could not live without light—had to talk to the Sun, They all knew it, but none had the guts to go up and make the first request.
For years, They remained in the dark, building a track across the fields. Once it was done, They would all board the train, so no one would arrive before or after. The wrath of the Sun would divide, and dissipate.
The Sun, lost in His own brightness, never caught on that His bride, the Moon, had broken down, that it was all Their fault, the fault of Those who did not give Her enough love, did not joy in Her cold light enough to give Her a reason to continue to burn, and in anguish She told herself, Be Not, and broke into a million icy shards.
Long ages they made that track, and in the years of darkness They did all by sound, touch, smell, taste, and lost the use for sight, like moles digging under the ground. By the time They boarded the train, they no longer remembered their request. But the Sun, hot and bothered without the Moon to cool Him down guessed Their plight.
The Sun emerged into Their horizon, and wherever He looked, flowers bloomed– in the fields, and along the long train track that led to him. Flowers red and yellow and blue, and all the other shades between them waved in the wind, with no one to see their beauty.
They felt the Sun’s warmth, and thought They had got his blessing. Every few decades one of Them developed sight, and when he spoke of the splendors he saw, he was anointed a Prophet.
The Moon remained broken in a million pieces, frozen, and appeared whole only when the Sun dreamed of her. She waxed and waned as her husband’s ardor grew and fell, and when the Sun forgot her entirely, She retaliated by swallowing him whole.
And that is the story of the Sun, the Moon, and Those that broke her.
————————–
If you liked this story you might like some of the stories I wrote for my A to Z last year.
As a co-host, I end with A to Z Challenge reminders:
1. Turn off your word verification. It helps no one. You may moderate comments for a while if you’re unsure.

2. In your comment id, link only to your AZ blog, NOT your profile which may have five other blogs.
3. Leave a link to you when you comment.
4. Comment when you visit blogs. Start visiting with the blog below you on the linky list.
5. Make it easy for people to follow your blog and follow you on social media.
Really loved this one…you are amazing!!
Thanks once again, to everyone who commented.
I loved that starter from Christine's son– and I don't think I've done complete justice to it–though yes, I subconsciously worked on this both as a myth and a metaphor: I wrote the piece in about 15 minutes, because I'm traveling this week and being my disorganized self, never scheduled any posts.
Christine and Stuart, thank you both, without your help I wouldn't have had a post at all.
I love the mythology feel to this story. Thanks for using the prompt inspired by my son! 🙂
Wonderful! Definitely like a folktale.
"She retaliated by swallowing him whole." Lovely imagery!
Lovely, poetic prose! That photo is very inspiring.
That sounds like an old folktale. Just lovely! Thanks for visiting my blog earlier.
A2ZMommy and What’s In Between
Oh my goodness. Not sure what adjective to use. BEautiful writing.
Karen
Like Cheryl, I think this would make an awesome folktale!
J.C. Martin
A to Z Blogger
almost dystopian-like. i too think that it's bittersweet. The moon is broken…lovely writing.
nice…i really like your story, it carries a myth quality…but also makes for a fine metaphor…
Gosh, I really love that as a metaphor. the moon is broken.
Gorgeous picture and beatiful words to go with it.
Nice job. That is a really stunning picture. I kept staring at it.
Play off the Page
Cool… it has a kind of folkloric tone to it!
Here comes the sun…
Jolie du Pre
Precious Monsters
That was a very spine tingly story. But very lovely, too, in a bittersweet way.