Cosmic Love

By Nausikaa

Just like long distance relationships, lovers under magical enchantments suffer from their own share of problems.

The issue was this; when Day got up, Night went to bed. As the light began to fade, Day would begin to rub her eyes. And as the stars appeared like pin pricks in the sky, Night would make breakfast. There were a few minutes overlap. When Day and Night were courting, these were romantic sunrises and sweet nothings at sunset. They swore that nothing- not even being opposing metaphors- could bring an end to their love.

Night was attracted to Day because of her bright personality, Night to Day because of her wallflower appearance. A classic case of opposites attract. And when they embraced, Night felt the warmth of the sun on her cheek, Day the tingle of stars on her skin. When they made love, the stars fell out of the sky and the aurora blazed like sudden lightning.

The other metaphors laughed and kindly told them it would never work. Day, who on hot days become slightly hot-tempered, kindly told them to go to hell. That evening, in a fit of passion, she propped up her eyelids with matchsticks and declared she would never sleep again. For two whole days the Earth was cast into twilight as birds threw themselves into aeroplane turbines and a suicide cult of three-hundred declared it as the end of the world and promptly killed themselves. In other words, Day decided, an all-round success; the magnetic poles might have shifted two-hundred degrees but on the other hand, she'd got to spend so much time with her Nighty-snoogims.

The next day, they received warnings in the celestial post reprimanding them on account of dereliction to duty, leading to the several space-time portals which had transported several ring-tailed monkeys to the pre-historic era, leading to the dominance of apes over the human race.

Lounged in bed, Day mouthed, "Still worth it."

While Night admired Day's recklessness- it turned her on, actually, and they spent the next two hours making out- she did feel the tiniest bit guilty about all the deaths on her account.

"Suppose we better get back to work," she sighed.

Shift work is always a big passion killer. Lately, Day and Night only had the energy to kick the other out of bed, one subsiding into slumber, the other to mooch around limpidly for a few hours. It was difficult; after thousands of millennia, Night could play every instrument ever created to a master level (the hurdy-gurdy, though underappreciated, was her favourite) had cooked every recipe (even though she didn't eat) and had already read every book ever written (including the Twilight novels; yes, she was that bored.) Day meanwhile, who wasn't much of a hobby person, had spent all her life perfecting one-man volleyball, and after 4.5 million years, it still consisted of hitting a ball over a net, running round to the other side, and moping for the next few hours because she hadn't been fast enough.

During day and during night, Day and Night sat on gold and silver sand, wishing the other could be there.

During day and during night, Day and Night sat on gold and silver sand, forgetting the love they'd had.

During day and during night, Day and Night sat on gold and silver sand, wishing they'd gotten together with a celestial being that was actually awake for some of the time.

And, oh! Night should have listened to her mother. She'd wanted her to marry Evening Breeze, and even though Evening Breeze was an oaf (with awful wind) who drank too much and fell asleep in front of the telly every night, at least he'd be awake some of the time to listen to her complain about the dishes. But, oh! She how could even she think this, because she still loved Day- it was just that she never saw her any more! Distance might make the heart grow fonder, but sleep did not. And oh, oh, oh! She was torn…

Tired. Weary. Dragging limpid limbs across limpid shores, because as Day and Night grew weary so did the seasons themselves. Smudged, grey days and dull, overcast nights, with a coin of a moon, covered over by greedy fingers of cloud.

The apes who'd taken control of the world were as dull as the humans they kept as pets. They sat reading newspapers in front rooms, complaining bitterly about the weather as rain lashed down panes of glass outside, mist curling like wraiths over the ocean.

"Awful weather, ain't it?" an ape-wife said.

"Tis," an ape-husband replied. In the corner, the little boy in his basket started howling. "Oi Missus, give Fido his chow before he brings the house down, won't you?"

Day was fading; Night was beginning to stir. She yawned; stretched; sat up. Day sat down beside on the bed; touched her hand.

"I was thinking we should do something sometime," she said.

Night regarded her sardonically. "When, exactly?"

Day and Night; Day and Night; over and over, till they become a blur. Day, a shadow of herself. Night, no more than shadows. Longing.

Sometimes life catches us; trips us by the ankles; leaves us high and dry.

All we need is a little time.

Day and Night laid side by side. The dull sunshine seeped in through the windows. Day, propped up on her elbows, was braiding her hair and Night's into a plait, laid it out onto a pillow just to see the contrast they made. Yellow as corn flowers twinned with the blackest of black. They were beautiful together. But she couldn't help but think, what if everyone was right? What if they were too different?

The day was so grey that she hadn't noticed the little light there was, fading. And then, like a bulb, the sun went out. Night yawned; stretched.

"Hey," she said accusingly, "what did you do? It's not time to get up yet. You didn't disrupt the cosmic balance just so we could play playstation again, did you?"

"No," said Day. "I think it's an eclipse."

They stood side by side on the doorstep. Over the bay, the moon hung low, swallowing the sun whole. Around it, like a halo, it glowed with phosphoresce. It had been so long since Night had seen Day in the dark. She'd forgotten how she too, glowed.

Day and Night, on gold and silver shores. Sun and Moon. Together. As if they were meant to be.

Day said, "It's wonderful, isn't it?"

Night said, "Yes," before, "I'm sorry." She bowed her head, too ashamed to look at her. "I know I've been a bitch recently. I never meant to. It's just that I…"

With her warm fingers, Day tilted Night's chin up, gently. "I know. I missed you, too."

And from that moment on, every minute together a gem, treasured. Day and Night; Day and Night; over and over, each more beautiful than before.