The Moon sits on his sky throne, resting his head on his fisted hand. He sighs as he absently twirls the newly formed twin comets with his other hand, weaving them between his glowing fingers.

"Bored, are you, sire?" inquires Meteorite as she finishes polishing the marble floor pulsing with ever-changing luminescent colors.

"'Fraid so, Meety."

"Please don't call me that, sire," she says without a trace of the edginess that had once amused him when she first came to be in his Court.

"Have you ever wondered, Meteorite," he says, heeding her wish, "what it would be like to live on Earth with the humans?"

To be continued ...?...