The Moon

   Above the clouds, a cold and inscrutable disk admonished me. Hard blocks of earth and metal pointed towards her beams, spiderwebs of moonlight which connected the stars to the land.

Her grasp was gentle. Unlike the iron hand of the sun, her webbed light held only the softest touch. She did not ignite my blood nor chill my temper, but she moved the tide in my heart.

    My eyes fell away from her. Just above the horizon a stone obelisk glowed, rising above the dim city. It stood at the end of the wide king’s road, flanked by manicured trees and upright walls that disappeared into the horizon. In the space between that earthen monument and heaven, you could see a line of string, holding up the sky.

Lost in the moon, I could stay ignorant of a delinquent earth. In the beams of her mystery, I did not see merchants and traders jostled and pushed by soldiers. My gaze had fallen; fixed in the walls of a moonless alley a figure stared into my eyes, then rushed away.

I followed the shadow through the winding streets, silhouettes and moonlight tracing the path she took. Sharp corners, empty plazas, and low tunnels were woven together by trailing strands of hair, her flowing cloak, and the light chorus of footsteps. I lost sight of her twice.

Towards the northern end of the city walls, she stopped under a small staircase and knocked on a heavy wooden door. As she waited for an answer, she glanced in my direction, catching my eye over her shoulder. The door opened, and she walked inside, where warm light crept out into the moonlit alley. I took some hasty steps forwards, and the city disappeared behind me through the wooden door.

“What do you want?” Her eyes were stone and her face, rock.

“Well, I’m here to teach, but I’ve found myself learning more than I am teaching.”

“I’m not a teacher.”

“Yes, you are. The way that you walk, how your eyes move, it’s all practiced. You instruct.”

“I said I’m not a teacher.”

“I can call you something else, but I need to learn.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want your problems.” She turned towards the bar resting her elbows on the wood and tapping her fingers twice on a full glass cup.

“You’re scared.”

“Huh?” Her head spun back towards me, “You stupid?”

“Probably.”

“Yeah probably, because I’m not scared. You’re the one who can’t find work in a city you don’t understand. You can’t understand it because you don’t want to understand it.”

“How do I understand it?”

“Stop being stupid. People live here and they survive.”

“So, survive?”

She turned back towards her drink. She sipped, dark liquid disappeared behind her thin lips, and her face stayed stone.

“Do more than survive.”

“So, you are a teacher.”

“Shut up. You’re young and blind.”

“No. I see a lot.” I thought for a moment, “I see with my nose too.”

She scoffed, eyebrows arching into disbelief, “In this city? No wonder you’re so sad.”

“It’s better than nothing.”

“No, it’s not. Everyone in this city lies, perfume’s the most popular.”

“I can tell you’re ovulating today.”

She put her cup back on the table and her fist through my jaw. The stool underneath me shot out towards the ground and I crashed down to the tile below, landing hard on my shoulder. She picked back up her drink and sipped again through lips cracked in a smirk.

I stood back up, holding my jaw. It hurt everywhere, my hip, shoulder, and knee, but nothing felt worse than my face and that would probably be fine in a week or so. The woman kept staring ahead with her drink, unconcerned.

“-Hanks for the leshon.” Was one of my teeth loose?

“First one’s free,” she replied, motioning towards the bartender with an empty cup.

No loose teeth, just the taste of iron and aching pain. I walked back outside into the night. I undid my earlier path, weaving down the same streets and alleys. I could hear shouting ahead, and I took cover in the same alley I had spotted the woman.

The moon shone down upon me as I looked out with horror into the street, and as my heart beat for the moon my body ached for her and I could only think of the mystery of how she was so far away from the blood that was flowing in the streets, yet she touched it still with traces of her flowing silver light. And as it pooled between the dark cracks of the earth I heard shouting, and a man approached me with an arm raised and a weapon raised higher and I could see the moonlight in his eyes.