On the moon, there are these winds. They have been there ever since humans first settled it and established their civilization, yet they have never been understood. No one has ever stood up to research them—they are unapproachable, unless they happen to engulf you.

It happens like this: you are walking down the street, eating a hot dog with mustard and sauerkraut, happily on your way to work the night shift at a grubby fast food restaurant, when you feel a sudden gust of wind. You are surrounded with blurred air and shards of something that glints as it trembles in the wind, and all movements, tremors, all vibrations cease. All that moves is the wind. The next thing you know, twenty four hours later, you are suddenly unfrozen and all is like it was before the wind, except for you. For you, time has not passed. You have no recollection of the past twenty four hours, yet you are different from the rest of the world now. You emerge from the wind like a time traveler—older. It may be by just a few seconds, or it may be fifty years. You may emerge as just a pile of dust.

Except for a man in a banana costume. He is still stuck in the wind. If you walk by, you will just see a man in a banana costume, frozen in the middle of a dance. He is surrounded by an ever flowing wind, which moves in one direction. He hasn't moved an inch since then, and he hasn't aged at all either. Some say he has even gotten younger. But visual age is relative—as they aged, the perspective of the observers changed.

Many of them had first seen a man in a banana costume on an elementary school trip. It was a custom in many lunar school districts to do that, if the man who never defrosted was within their traveling vicinity. The observers, then so young had thought the man old, but as they came to mature, and in time take their own children to see him, their age difference wasn't so vast anymore. The man seemed to have become younger.

A term was coined to describe this phenomenon—Old Photograph Syndrome—when, through the passage of time, a person in a photograph or other static medium seems younger, as the viewer ages.

These observers remember the man so clearly, from their first time. He had regular features, was of an unidentifiable age, and had an unidentifiable expression. Yet, each time they saw him, he seemed different. The novelties they saw in him reflected the changes in their own dynamic lives.

A man in a banana costume was frozen in time. The wind came while he was dancing. There were three hobos there with him, when the wind came. They stood beside him, waiting for him to be unfrozen, placing bets on how he would age when he emerged from the wind. But it never happened. They died never knowing the answer. A man in a banana costume was dancing, when a gust of wind came and consumed him, immobilizing him forever. People came and watched this unprecedented phenomenon. They walked around him for years, waiting. But nothing ever happened. They built a theme park around him, and paid money to see his frozen, perpetual, blissful, suffering.

It was like staring into a fire. It gave no answers, but intrigued you to ponder.

When you stare into a dancing man in a banana costume, a dancing man in a banana costume stares back into you.