It was morning.
The moon was there.
That was the first thing it didn’t like.
The moon looked at the sky.
Bright.
It looked right.
Bright.
It looked left.
Still bright.
“Hey.”
No answer.
“Hey, white thing.”
No answer.
The white thing wasn’t there.
Morning was there instead.
The moon thought for a moment.
The white thing had cracked.
White had fallen out.
Morning had come.
Which meant.
“You.”
Morning said nothing.
The moon went all the way around morning.
It didn’t.
Morning had no edge.
Go right, morning.
Go left, morning.
Above, morning.
Below, morning too.
The moon was getting annoyed.
“Let me see inside.”
Morning said nothing.
The moon hit morning.
It felt nothing.
It hit it again.
Still nothing.
“The shell?”
None.
“The hole?”
None.
The moon didn’t know what to do.
Couldn’t break it.
Couldn’t peek inside.
Couldn’t ride it.
It didn’t roll, either.
In last night, it could make a path.
On the white thing, it could ride.
With a hole, it could go through to somewhere else.
But morning had no beyond.
No matter how far it went, it was morning.
The moon was quiet for a while.
Then it said,
“Then I’ll turn it back into night.”
Far away, the donut heard.
Oh, dear.
The moon rose into the sky.
High.
Higher.
Up to the height where it used to be at the center of night.
From there, it looked down at morning.
“Get dark.”
Morning was bright.
“I said, get dark.”
Bright.
The moon shone harder.
It thought if it shone brighter than morning, it could make morning disappear.
It shone incredibly bright.
It shone desperately.
And because of that, it could see clearly.
There was a town below.
There were roofs.
There were roads.
There were windows.
One window opened.
Someone stuck their head out.
“Oh. The moon.”
The moon froze.
It had been seen.
The moon quickly hid behind a cloud.
After a while, it peeked out again.
Still morning.
“What the hell.”
The moon muttered.
Just then.
Bonk.
Something hit the moon on the head.
A star.
“You!”
The star went right past the moon.
Falling.
“Wait!”
The moon chased after it.
The star fell into morning.
Gone.
The moon stopped.
“Did it go in?”
No answer.
The moon went down.
It searched.
Right.
Left.
Down.
Up.
The star was nowhere.
The moon pressed its face against morning.
Tried to look inside.
Couldn’t see.
“Then let’s break it.”
Far away, the donut sighed.
The moon didn’t hear.
It looked for somewhere to break morning.
Right.
Left.
Down.
Nothing.
It went back up.
Then a voice said,
“What are you doing?”
The moon turned around.
The white thing was there.
“You!”
The white thing was white.
Standing there as if nothing had happened.
For a while, the moon stood there with its mouth open.
Then it said,
“Didn’t you turn into morning?”
“I did.”
“Then why are you still here?”
“Dunno.”
The moon said nothing.
The white thing said nothing either.
“Because of you, night’s gone.”
“Hm?”
“Bring it back.”
“Bring what back?”
“Night.”
The white thing thought for a moment.
Then looked at the moon.
“Do you like night?”
The moon didn’t answer.
The white thing started rolling along.
The moon watched.
After a while, it followed.
“Where are you going?”
“Dunno.”
“Again?”
The moon couldn’t ride on the white thing anymore.
Far away, the donut laughed.