We’ll build our house on the moon,” said Sunny excitedly. Stories about the moon fascinated him. He would watch that golden globe stare down at him for hours.
“Oh! My piece of gold,
Out there it must be cold,
How I wish you I could hold,
And put you up as sold.
Then you could be mine forever”
He would hum this poem and make up stories about the moon, but his favorite one was about the old lady on the moon. “When I stay on the moon I won’t need any lights. I’ll just open my window and watch the stars going twinkle, twinkle. My carpet will be of clouds and I’ll touch the rain.” He thought of the small wafer pistol that he had and wondered what it would be like if he had all the rain to play with.
“Rain, rain don’t go away, with me you must stay, together both of us will play
“I’ll cut off small pieces of the moon and make jewellery for mummy. I shall be able to give gifts of gold to my friends on their birthdays. Birds will chirp and teach me their language. There will be toys with wings and they shall fly from here to there. I’ll learn to fly from one place to the other. Oh! What fun it will be.” His thoughts would be about the castle on the moon and he would see himself a little prince there, with a lot of people around him to attend to him. ”Get me some candy floss.” Away his attendant would go and fetch a piece of cloud for him.
The alarm clock brought him back to his world. “I’ll tell my story to Dimpy I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.” Dimpy was sitting with a team of hockey players who were all ready to start a game. He was so excited about his idea that he wanted to tell Dimpy about it there and then. So, he started off blah, blah, chatter, chatter. Dimpy heard him from-beginning to the end and then told him, “Listen Sunny I hope you won’t get upset after what I tell you. Sometimes it gets very cold up there. It’s even colder than living on a snow-peaked mountain. Darkness surrounds you and you cannot see anything. There is nothing to be seen for miles and miles around.” Sunny smiled, a little convinced. On went Dimpy, “You are thrown from one place to another. You can’t smell and you can’t talk and most of all there would be no TV to watch, no comics to read, no candy to eat, no friends to talk to, no stickers to stick around and no songs to sing and there will L be no Dimpy there.” gave up his castle in the air and went away merrily happy where he was.
The writer is a housewife and can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org