The midnight sun

She danced with the moon on her back and the sun warming her cheeks. They all stared in wonder if they could. She moved too fast for them to track her every movement. If they caught a glimpse of what she was doing, they were lucky. Her long dress trailed behind her like a river of flowing silk and sequins. He arms were outstretched and her feet were a blur on the softly woven ground. Her house loomed next to her, but as she danced, it seemed to relax and feel safe. The trees swayed to the invisible rhythm that floated in the air, swirling around her like a tornado. "Where does she come from? How does she do that?" People wondered. She was only seen at night when the stars shined above her like crystalline diamonds and the moon was not a pearl but a milky white sun plastered in the sky. People would get suspicious and stake out in her yard where by night there was a house and by day there was a grove of trees. They would vow to stay awake and watch her, but her fluid movements quickly lured them to sleep. When they woke, the sun would just be peeking out from the horizon and a freshly cooked breakfast would be sitting on a tree stump for them. The girl would be gone, and so would the house.

She twirled and rushed with the ecstatic excitement of a young child just waking up on Christmas day. The sun continued to warm her cheeks and the moon cooled her back. The midnight sun was a spotlight on her as she danced through the night, whirling and flailing though the night.