Orb

Remotely isolated between two tall mountains, Arial was a town that no one visited. And, there was another reason, a dark cloud so old that even the town's elders couldn't know for certain how it all began: the whole town feared the moon, even the moon's light.

It had always been so in Arial. There was an old rumor of a  flood that swept thru the region in a horrific wave of destruction, wiping out nearly everyone, all in one horrible day. Some surviving witnesses recalled how right before the catastrophic night, a bizarrely massive moon appeared doubly-large and drifting closer.

Then the moonlight somehow turned to raging volumes of rushing waters, bringing sheer devastation to all. The moon had warned, but death came quickly.

The elders passed down these vague, frightening stories, and  the whole town got a fear about night- no one trusted the moon, no one went out after sunset, even with the great orb invisible.

It was irrational, pervasive, and intractable. Fear- including mass fear- needs no cause to thrive; only practice, repetition, tradition. Fear quickly becomes institution of ritual, given power and status, and no one can confirm a reason.

The town of Arial harbored this frightful behavior forever, until one fateful June evening, a night when the  infamous moon filled full circle, perfect round of light pinned to a shifting skyline.

Evelyn Rose was an enchanted child, the whole town thought her a sort of blessed angel, and her humble family was thankful for everyone's help: Evelyn was born in a deep coma, healthy but in a profound and permanent state for her first decade of life.

That is, until this fateful June dusk, full moon still low near the horizon. Her family sound asleep, Evelyn Rose startled slightly in her slumber- then suddenly sat up in her bed- eyes still closed, not really conscious, but also a spark of unknown motive jogged her to rise to her feet. Somehow, her weakened limbs held her up as she shuffled instinctively towards the front door. 

Her parents, now awakened and shocked by the sight, suddenly froze- they could not follow their sleep-walking daughter outside. She continued to wander towards the town, as her horrified family watched from the window, still too afraid to follow her outside.

As Evelyn Rose neared the small town square, she abruptly halted. With her closed eyelids fluttering wildly, she tilted her head back, as if directly basking in the moon's energy, absorbing the feared rays- then, slowly opened her eyes, the bright, full orb her very first sight. She was awake!

By then, others had noticed, many peering thru their windows in awe and wonder. They saw the moon had not consumed her, or grown in size, or brought deadly waters. From a small child they learned they needn't be afraid any longer.

As with the good townsfolk of Arial, all must awaken from the paralysis of fear's hypnotic hold.  Lockdowns of spirit must release hope from its year of detention, the moon from its cage of worry, and our lives back from bondage.