There was no moonlight tonight. Paris was left to dream of soft romantic hues radiating from the far away icy sphere that glows with celestial fervour. She was left to wonder what it would be like for the hopeful trees to be tinged with silver and white and flutter slowly with the cool, ethereal breeze of night. She was left to imagine hours where the near and distant skies were cloudless, where beaming stars gracefully dotted the heavens with eternally flickering, beautiful sights. There was, after all, moonlight – and stars – tonight. The soothing, quiet, gentle glow, was – is – always inside.
This story is written in the "Drabble" form that I first learned from Juhis.