The piece these characters have in common is a shellfish. With a redundant insect its name becomes meretrix lusoria, but the important thing is that its flesh was used in ancient times to put curses on others. With rain it becomes thunder, the thing that would make someone shiver in fear. And with a meaty moon it becomes a pair of lips, perfect to say those curses aloud.
If there is one thing the moon hates it’s shellfish. She hates them, because they can put a curse on anyone that eats their flesh. And that is what the moon wants to do. She wants to put her own curses on those who dare to look at her. Because every gaze feels like a bite, that reaches the bone and spills her light. But the moon’s lips weren’t made for cursing. Up there in the sky, the only voice that can be heard belongs to the thunder. And everyone knows that thunder only curses in the name of those shellfish that will always be its favorites.
Poor little moon. Favoritism is such a cruel thing when you are not the one in favor, isn’t it?
There are so many beautiful things that can be said aloud. Poetry. Praise. Cheer. Why would anyone choose to use their voice to thunderously spread a curse? Something so ugly, meant only to destroy.
I took a bite out of the moon believing that I could borrow some of her qualities. Her calm. Her magic. Her dream. Even her beauty would have done. But I only inherited the moon’s obsession with comparing herself to others.
I wish I had known a little bit sooner that thunder could curse others for me. But now it’s too late. I have cast so many curses that I have nothing left inside. I open my mouth and there are no words. There is only darkness. The darkness of a new moon that will never grow into her light.
That will teach you to share the next time. The sun shares its light with you, but instead of sharing it with the lightning bolts, you keep it to yourself. The lightning bolts have to scrape up light from somewhere else. They barely last a second ablaze. And you still wonder why thunder chose a seashell over you?
I try to put myself in your shoes, I try to understand the choices that brought you here. I want to believe that I would have taken a different path, but I cannot be sure. You were born in the darkness of a storm. The flashes of lightning that you saw barely lasted a second. And I want to believe that I would have praised that light, instead of embracing the darkness even tighter and hating the light for being a false hope. I want to believe that I wouldn’t have chosen to curse others.
Moon, I have no respect for you. If you hate someone so much that you want to cast a curse upon them, you should do it yourself, without resorting to megaphones.
I don’t care if the curse is fulfilled or not. I just want it gone from my mouth. Because it leaves no room for anything else. But I don’t think that thunder will choose me. Because I am only interested in getting rid of this hatred, whereas thunder wants to spread it.
When I was young, I was taught not to have a best friend, because favoritism hurts others. But it seems that no one bothered to teach that same lesson to the thunder.
It’s no wonder that thunder is only insubstantial noise. It’s no wonder that it fades without a trace. Because it only repeats someone else’s words and the hatred it spreads doesn’t even belong to the thunder.
You should take comfort in the knowledge that you aren’t the one that has lost. Thunder hasn’t chosen you, because you only showed it the light you borrow from the sun. It could have been worse. You could have bared your soul and been rejected. But you still can think that the sun is the one that has been rejected, not you.
Why are you still a moon? And you thunder? And you a seashell? Why am I the only one that has lost herself? That has ended up consumed by the hatred that she kept inside? All of you know that same hatred too. You spread it. You cast curses with it. Why haven’t you lost yourselves to that hatred, just like I did?