Everyday Canvas

The Stone and The Moon

Prompt: Rock Legend ~ Write a brief list of things that a stone might be upset about. Now craft us a story late at night about your stone confiding to the moon all the troubles it's having. Have fun!

Stone’s Complaints
• It thinks it is simple and closed up, but it needs nothing and asks for nothing.
• Its hard surface doesn’t mean it doesn’t have feelings.
• No plant grows in it.
• The sea is its enemy and, in alliance with the elements, it wears down the stone into pebbles and sediment.
• People say negative things about stones.
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Now the story:

What the Stone and the Moon Keep Inside

The evening descended as an amaranthine mist enshrouding the ocean and the land around it, together with the large stone, which had once been a boulder holding the waves away. A little while later, the nightfall turned everything into navy and then even darker colors, letting the flashy full moon flaunt its mystical existence.

“Hello, Moon,” said the stone, as it stood transfixed on the spot near the fence that overlooked the sandy beach. It was happy to see the moon, a larger being of its very own family, a family to which time always proved to be the enemy.

“Hello, there, Little One,” answered the moon, sending its beams to caress the stone’s surface. The stone felt a happy shivering inside itself, but its surface failed to conjure an expression.

All of a sudden, a distant rumbling became audible on the beach. The moon laughed, but the stone didn’t flinch. Strange, how it had become immune to the ocean’s petty jealousies! The moon rose higher and sent more of its beams on the ocean since the ocean’s defiance seemed superficial at that moment, but the ocean rose together with the moon anyway and began bombarding the beach with its waves.

“The ocean’s at it, again,” moaned the stone. “It wants to tear me down and gobble me up into its big belly.”

“It can only take the sand from the beach,” said the moon. “You’re safe behind that fence. Don’t you worry!”

“But I do. The ocean is my enemy.”

“Little One, don’t think of other beings as your enemies,” said the moon. “They are doing what their nature dictates. Why don’t you turn your thoughts into yourself, instead?”

“All right, if you say so, which means I have to open my heart to the skies. In reality, I am an unintentionally simple being, closed inside myself. I need nothing and ask for nothing, but no one respects that.”

‘That is a difficult existence, I have to admit,” said the moon. “But it is better than being one of those large, fierce creatures covered with scales. They once inhabited the earth, as you might recall. And you know what happened to them.”

“I certainly do,” said the stone, eyeing the waves on the beach again. “Because I have been around for millenniums, I’ve seen all and experienced much. I was a huge boulder at the time of the giant scaly creatures before the ocean took over.”

“Never mind the ocean. Just look at the beautiful things other than the ocean.”

“Like what?”

“Like the plants, the trees, the flowers. Those things behind you in the garden.”

“That’s just it,” lamented the stone. “No plant grows in me, except when I have a dent and some soil creeps in it. Then I may get a weed or two sprouting from it, which is very rare. That I have a hard surface doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings.”

The moon didn’t say anything as it had climbed to the highest peak and was looking down at the waters that had been rising.

“It is not just the green things,” the stone continued. “The people, too, although I must admit, at the time when I was bigger, a couple sat on me and watched you in ecstasy. That was during my happier times, but then, when people walk around, I hear them badmouthing me. So much so that each generation of them says the same nasty things about me.”

“Are you sure, dear stone, you are not being paranoid about that?”

“No, I am not,” exhaled the stone defiantly. “Here are a few examples, and don’t tell me you haven’t heard them.” And the stone blurted out what it had heard and was keeping to itself for centuries. “Beware of the scorpion that rests under the stone; Call on God but row away from the rocks; The good mill grinds stones.” The stone watched the moon lower itself from its highest peak in the sky for a while, then added, “Plus. what about the nasty way they use my name, as in throwing stones at unwanted things or stoning people or stoned addicts?”

“I admit,” said the moon wearily, “People’s speech gets to me, too, but you shouldn’t worry because people usually do not bother with stones unless they’ve formed them into gems like tiny diamonds and such.”

“Diamonds!” rattled the stone, “I do have one hidden in my core, but imagine what would happen to me, if people knew about it.”

“My lips are sealed, trust me,” said the moon. “Since I, too, have a few of those hidden in my core.”

“Shhh!” said the stone. “The ocean might be listening, even if it has quieted down and seems to be sleeping, now. Don’t trust it. It talks to people.”

The moon winked at the stone, then, and the stone and the moon snickered together, gloating over their little secrets.