ORIGIN: Such ruthlessness. Wolves and mermaids could have been the best of friends. It’s a pity they are at cross-purposes. Wolves howl to keep the moon afloat, whereas mermaids sing to shipwreck it.
They seem to be evenly matched. This might be your one and only chance to weigh in. So tell me, who will you be rooting for?
Finally, something to look forward to. This is not the clockwork moon I grew up with. I knew its phases by heart, and I had better things to do than tilt my head back and let it be a part of my world. But that was then, and this is now. For the first time, wolves and mermaids have a say. It’s a real nail-biter. I tune in every night, and I can’t wait to see who wins.
Have a little faith. Wolves have sharper teeth than mermaids, and victory won’t slip through them. Here’s a piece of advice. The moon won’t be shipwrecking tonight, so save your tears. If you want to witness a downfall, don’t look up at the stars. I have been told that people have inner lights, and hearts break and blacken every day. Just smile your mermaid smile and don’t forget to look people in the eye.
No, no, no, mermaids can’t win. If those howling wolves aren’t enough, there has to be a straw the moon can grasp. Somewhere. Here. Right here. Heartstrings count, do they not? I still haven’t wished anyone ill. I am loved. I still haven’t set foot in the real world. The moon can grasp at my heart. I am still young enough to wish to love like I have been loved.
All is not lost. Mermaids only have songs for shiny things, and they are quick to lose interest in their toys. As soon as the ship sinks below the waves, the mermaids move on to greener seas. There is no scarcity of hopeful hearts in this world, and mermaids aren’t monsters, they don’t kick us when we are down. The moon might be gone, but it is not broken beyond repair. The pieces are there, and those mermaids won’t keep us from putting them back together. The least we can do is try.
Dead and buried is the moon, but the tug-of-war must go on. Wolves are not picky and mermaids are not fussy. They are willing to settle for any poor substitute you come up with.
I find this substitute very appropriate because lanterns take the weakness of moths into consideration. The war between wolves and mermaids goes back a long way, and I am too tenderhearted. I can’t change their mind, there’s no end in sight to their fight, and I would rather not watch any of them get hurt.
It’s like a toothache. When the storm abates, you can’t help but probe around to make sure that your teeth are still there and that lifelong companion hasn’t deserted you. The wolves need to know that there are mermaids on the other side of the rope and vice versa. It’s quite depressing, but love doesn’t prove that you are alive, pain does. And streetlamps are the perfect choice to illuminate such depressing sights.
Don’t be silly. My choice doesn’t pale in comparison with the moon. The colors of this torch are yellow and red, not white and blue. I am sick and tired of half-hearted howls and songs. I don’t live my life just to get a participation prize. I am here to be entertained, and I expect wolves and mermaids to put up the very best show. Yellows and reds. Enthusiasm and bloodthirst, all in the name of victory.
Matchsticks might be a little bit out of place in this day and age, but so too are hopes and dreams. Children used to wish upon stars that didn’t wave goodbye and never looked back. Wishes didn’t come true. Only the moon stayed behind, but that embodiment of loneliness wasn’t good enough for anybody’s heart. And I am glad that it is finally gone. Because now the wolves and the mermaids can fight for this matchstick. And who knows, with any luck, my wish will come true, and I won’t end up lonelier than I am right now.