The sun beats hot and cruel on my back as I lie face down in the dust. The dessert is hot. Too hot. I lay deflated on the sand. I must drink the moon. But days in the dessert are long and drag on. The moon hasn’t smiled in a fortnight.

You see I’m a moon child, chosen by the stars to protect the galaxy from the comfort of earth. We are all made of star dust. But I am special. Every night I count the stars that are late reaching us. I record the stars that have exploded and ones that are yet to exist. I’ve measured every meteor shower and precisely timed every lunar eclipse. I keep the human knowledge at bay controlling the forbidden secrets of the universe which one may only receive when their time comes.

But, in order to remain on earth I must have a fragment within me that belongs to the moon a true piece of me reminding the body that I am a moon child. Every week I must drink the moon. It’s a strange process really. I stare into the glittering surface of the moon, raise my lips to the starlight and gently breath in and out. The liquid is pure as existence, it gently trickles down my insides and connects me with the stars. It’s beautiful. The feeling that I am a part of life the feeling that I am connected with everything.

But now I am alone. I’m not sure if I have a chance. Two weeks have already passed. If I don’t drink soon, I will burn and return to the sky as a star. Another moon child will be born and I will no longer have a place on this earth. I whisper the moons name into the clammy air. I need someone to hear me. And like a dream a slow, steady darkness falls over the dessert.

But I’m to late parts of me have already melted into dark matter ,the glue that holds the universe. Then I see it the moon! I lift my head to the starlight, prise open my lips and gulp down the second chance I’ve been offered by the sudden appearance of night. I feel something coursing through my veins, moonlight! As pure as existence.

Slowly I can feel myself! I lift my head then arms until I’m stood upright. Every muscle pumping with moon power. Thank you. I whisper to the stars. Then I dust my arms off and smile at the moon. It’s a wonder how we’re all connected! The stars wink and gleam like my brothers and sisters all cheering me on. And then I see him.

The boy was only a few meters away. Lifting his own lips to the sky. But he didn’t drink the moon, instead he drank the setting sun as it bleached the sky apricot. How was this possible? How were there 2 beings on this earth that could practically drink the galaxy?