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The dawn came each morning, but alas, it was empty. The moon hung in the sky, stuck in it's eerie dance around it's partner, the painter.

The evening came as well, but alas, it was nigh. The moon, weary, would fall slowly, until it's partner could join once more.

Where was the sun? The villagers cried, worried about the one who painted the colors of the world. But it had been stolen by a friend, for it's own protection, for it's own good.


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Revision 19 See all

(6 years ago)