The Sun illuminated the Sky like it owned it, like it was meant to do just that. And it did its job to perfection. The Sky was covered every inch with radiance and warmth that was unparalleled. It needed nothing else. It would give anything to keep the Sun for life. But like every other ‘forever’ that is meant to end, when it was time, the Sun had to go. The Sky pleaded for it to remain, reasoned for it to stay; but the Sun was bound by habit and by its nature to lighten another dome in another land, to brighten another day elsewhere.
As the Sun approached the horizon, the minutes seemed shorter, and the Sun seemed lovelier. The Sky was too captivated by the light of the Sun to let it go simply. It held on with all its might and struggled for it to stay a tad bit longer. The beauty of this scuffle made the world marvel as the Sky took contrasts of shades no one knew could coexist, and combinations of colours impossible to replicate.
Even after the last bit of the Sun was out of view, the Sky refused to accept the loss. It held on to the memories it had had while the Sun shone ever so brightly on its barren land.
Like every remnant that has to taper off, the brightness of the Sun’s rays became too much for the Sky to hold on to. It had to let go of the memories to be able to survive the loss. In gradations that were invisible to the casual eye, the Sky melted back to the darkness it was born with. The light was gone, yes; but the warmth was there to stay.
When it had recuperated enough to notice, the ever so gracious Moon stood by with its speckled beauty and open arms to offer all that it had to the bruised Sky. The Sky allowed the Moon to beautify its stark self. As if it weren’t enough, the Moon called for the stars, and swore to cover the nakedness of the night with the bountiful joy that it could find in the jewels of the dark. The Moon hoped to brighten the Sky as much as the Sun could and he put all of his might into the purpose; but no one knew that he wasn’t even a close match.