Sun and Moon

Two dissimilar faces, a foreign language to his daily equatorial scenes, somewhere awkward between the tip of the nighttime and the arrival of the first sunbeam, oceans away.

What do they offer each other anyway?

One offered a few jokes, courteous enough to break the ice between the two individuals who never saw each other eye-to-eye quite literally before, but intriguing enough for the other to tease back. To which she simply replied with yet another excessive politeness and the lack of expressions, albeit prompt enough to imply a mutual enthusiasm.

I was never one to really get intimate – including platonically – with someone whose entire personality is all about being extremely nice, friendly, and polite, he thought. Show me your other facades, your intricacy, your range and depth, will you?

Maybe it’s true what they said about, “You are what you eat,” he continued with his train of thoughts. ‘Cause this feels good but way too healthy for me. A little bland, although it’s exactly what I might need. Needs a hint of salt and spices, but is otherwise edible and digestible.

A little more flavour and it probably began to feel irresistible.

Meanwhile, he tastes like dried cloves. Subtly sweet, with a slight note of bitterness and astringency, topped with an intense warm fragrance that no one around can avoid. Full of personality.

What is it that they’re performing or trying to come about anyway?

Whether it’s a mere temporary and intermittent elation that offers a little splash of curiosity to two separate mundane lives, or a genuine intention to help out a new friend with his endless list of questions regarding moving overseas, or just an unanticipated expectation after discovering comfort in one another’s sentences;

there will, and can, never be more.

The clock is ticking, displaying two contrasting hours in two different rooms, signifying today’s due of their interactions. Will they try again tomorrow – possibly, but none of them ever really knows.

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