太阳已很久没有升起了……
今天的夜晚寒冷而寂静，湖边，一座房子坐落在树林的环绕中。月光洒落在水面，一股凉爽的微风吹拂而过，激起层层轻柔涟漪。两艘橡木划艇在码头边轻轻地起伏着。它们被落叶覆盖着。若有人坐在其中，便会听到风在耳畔轻语着故事。
(资料图片)
Emily站在夜色笼罩下的草地上，感受着凉爽的空气轻抚面颊。她听到它在低声讲述，在一个遥远的地方，阳光明媚，小船在湖中自由地游动。她对这故事并不陌生，但她并不是来听故事的。相反，她来是为了与月亮共度时光。
它独身处在无垠的黑暗中。群星已经离去，去寻找更好的天空。
它们去哪了？她一边琢磨，一边在摆弄着一个小玩偶，风吹得她的手有些发凉。与此同时，它开始低声讲述一个新的故事。在这个故事中，阳光再次普照，野餐桌上放着一些食物。玩偶左摇右摆，如同在舞蹈，旁边有人在欢笑。月亮无处可觅。
另一个故事，来自另一个地方，她心想，眼中噙满泪水，但那个地方已经不存在了。
她将目光从月亮上移开片刻，盯着玩偶看了许久。就在这时，风变大了，最终从吹拂的微风变成了呼嚎的狂风。它拍打着她的手，几乎要把她冻得麻木。她的视线回到月亮上，狂风四处肆虐，月亮却岿然不动。
我想，得作出决定了。
风从未停止向她尖啸，它看到她拿着玩偶走出草地，走向码头。她在边缘停下脚步，低头看向被枯叶覆盖的小船。现在风直接向她迎面吹来，拼命地想推动她。但她岿然不动。
她跪了下来，缓缓将玩偶放在早已枯死的树叶中。
忽然，风停了。
It’s been so long since the sun rose…
It is a cold still night tonight, and there is a house resting amongst trees on the coast of a lake. A cool, whistling breeze blows through, causing gentle ripples in the water as the moonlight gleams down onto its surface. Two oaken rowboats peacefully bob up and down next to a pier. They’re both coated in dead leaves. If one were to sit among them, they would hear the wind whispering stories in their ears.
Emily stands in the grass amongst the night, feeling the cool air tenderly blow against her face. She hears it whisper of a faraway place where the sun shines bright, and the boats row freely in the lake. She’s heard this story many times, but she is not here to listen to stories. Instead, she has come to spend time with the moon.
It stands all alone in its realm of darkness. The stars have departed for better skies.
Where have they all gone? She wonders, fiddling with a small doll as the cool breeze chills her hands. As it does, it begins to whisper a different story. In the story, the sun is shining once again, and there is food on a picnic table. The doll is being swayed from side to side as if it were dancing, and there are people laughing nearby. The moon is nowhere to be seen.
Another story, from another place, she thinks, tears welling in her eyes. But that place is not here anymore.
She turns her gaze from the moon for a moment, and instead gives it to the doll, staring at it for a long while. As she does, the wind begins growing stronger, eventually turning from a whistling breeze into a howling squall. It whips against her hands, chilling them almost to the point of numbness. She looks back to the moon, and sees that while the wind blows frantically in every direction, the moon is unrelenting in its stance.
I suppose there’s a decision to be made, then.
It watches as she steps out of the grass and down the pier with the doll in her hands, the wind screaming at her the whole way there. She stops just at the edge, looking down at the boats covered in dead leaves. The wind is blowing directly against her now, desperately trying to push her away. But she is unrelenting in her stance.
Lowering herself to her knees, she gently rests the doll amidst the long dead foliage.
And suddenly, the wind stops blowing.
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