The story of The Crescent Moon
The Crescent Moon is a place as well as a somebody — the highest, quietest, last place there is, where the thin silver smile hangs in the deep blue with his two or three little star-eyes twinkling above him. Nothing is up here except the night itself, which is exactly why the night’s most important work happens here: this is where the goodnights are said. From this high up, every window in the world is small and warm and far below, and the whole cast can be seen in their places — the forest still, the lake flat, the hollow settled — while the roll-call goes gently round and each name, as it is said, goes quiet. The moon dims his stars one by one as it finishes. His own star-eyes go out last of all. Then the highest place in the world is dark, which is how everyone below knows the night has been properly put to bed.
Stories from The Crescent Moon
Who lives here
In the archive
5 pieces of The Crescent Moon exist in the archive — 4 sheets, 1 ref. They arrive here as they are approved and published.