Short Story: Under Bloody Skies

        The night was cool and chilly, filled with the smoke of chimneys and reek of cars’ exhausts. And there was a moon and it was white and full and was hung into the bloody red sky, empty of any stars.

        Skies rarely had that bright scarlet color. It’d happen only once a year and it was on the night of Change. And there was always a full moon on that night that stood high and watched sufferings and terrors, and tears, and broken hearts. The moon would look and cry with the silver tears of light.

        On that particular night One had gone out for a walk. One didn’t know his way, for he wasn’t going anywhere but was just wandering around the wide world. One didn’t do that often. One was afraid of the night almost as much as he feared the day. Because day was bright, and nothing remained hidden, and One needed his secrets to stay secrets forever. But he sometimes got lonely. That was the case with that night. One was too lonely alone in his small apartment and had gone out for a stroll.

        One passed many streets and many cars passed One. One saw a lot of people and a lot of strangers saw One. None of them knew him, for he didn’t know anyone, but only one spoke to him in shaky voice and reached out to him. He was old, older than One but maybe just as lonely and stood alone in a dark alley by the city park. His clothes were scruffy and old and his beard, once white, had become yellow with the color of tobacco.

        One gave away a quiet shriek when noticing the old man, for he feared the night almost as much as he was afraid of the day, but it was nothing compared to the fear he felt toward people. People were scary, and One didn’t like them. They always wanted something or asked for something, or hoped for something, or dreamed of something and that was both scary and confusing. Where did they keep all those dreams, wondered One. People weren’t big enough to store them inside of them and neither was the planet, for their hopes spread as far as the end of the universe. But why did they need all those dreams? Were they of any good to them? One didn’t know and didn’t want to know. One was perfectly content with his life so as not to care about the others’.

        “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?” asked the old man in a rough voice and stared into the sky. “It’s a scarcity to see a moon like that.”

        “The moon?!” exclaimed One, “There’s nothing interesting about the moon! It’s just the same as it is any other night!”

        “Yeah, but it stands out so much brighter when having for a background such a red sky.”

         One wrinkled his brows. “Why do you care so much about the sky when you don’t have where to sleep, what to eat, or what to wear? This is so stupid! You are so stupid!”

        “You are the stupid one, boy! If I wanted, I could have castles. If I desired, the world could be at my feet! All treasures, all food, all pieces of clothing there are out there could be mine if they were of any measure to me. But instead I chose the sky! I chose sleeping under its shining stars; I chose breathing its heaven air. I chose being here and I chose talking to you! Don’t disappoint me, boy, for you are way too young to forget about the beauty of the night and fear the dark. Don’t be afraid! You’re part of this night and you’re part of this sky! Now look at it, son! Look at it and let it wash away the fear, wash away the doubt. Breathe in the freedom, breathe in the beauty, breathe in the difference! This is the night of Change – let it change you!”

        One blinked once or twice and watched the old man melt away into the darkness. One had heard his words but had not understood them. The night was scary and he was not part of it. He couldn’t be. What a nonsense the stranger had spoken!

        One was one and he was alone. He didn’t talk to strangers and strangers didn’t talk to him. He didn’t listen to strangers, for he hadn’t known any. But now he did and that changed… something.

        One feared change almost as much as he feared night and darkness, and day, and people. One didn’t want a change.

        But curiosity, they say, is a great power. But curiosity was a stranger and One didn’t like changes, for One feared them.

        But it was the night of Change and curiosity took over, and One looked up, and One saw the sky. For the very first time. It was bloody red and as if haunted but the silver straws of the moon light.

        And it was beautiful, and it was different, and it was a stranger One was just getting to know, and it wasn’t so scary as One had expected. One loved it, and One wanted to look at it forever. He took his eyes off the heavens and for a moment glanced at the place where the old man had stood. There was no one there now. One bent and sat there alone in the darkness. He underlay on the wall behind him and steered his eyes again at the direction of the moon.

        And the moon just stood there, watching and crying but not sad now but rather happy, for that was the night of change, and one had changed.