Horizon
Ahiluna loved to gaze at the horizon.
She used to spend hours laying in a high grass cradle, while over the mountain
chain arose a triumvirate of moons: Crassus marked with craters, witnesses of a
rough past, Caesar dragging a blue feathery curtain, and Pompey, Ahiluna’s
favorite, red and sedate. Ahiluna’s mother enjoyed carving boulders. Her father
loved working on tunnels reaching the planet’s centre. Ahiluna hated dust and
noise. She would talk to her parents about the beauty of untouched nature,
complete silence and transparent air in which she can float as if in a dream,
free from the clutches of gravity.
At the end of the day she was moved by the voices of her parents, luring her towards the balcony facing the sunset of Rigel. The red sun was preparing to dive into a green sea. Ahiluna started running to the house under the decorated cliff. She was excited – she will turn seven in seven minutes…
Not far from the porch, she almost stepped on a bird. The bluebird, whose wings were entangled in plants, was shivering and whispering a sad melody. Ahiluna softly embraced the bird. “What happened, little flyer?” She picked her up and brought the bird into the house.
“Look”, she said to her father, who was cleaning a solar panel.
“Place her on my desk”, he said. He took a box out of a large drawer. “Our species and birds have a mutual beginning, as everything else on this planet.” From the box he emerged a translucent needle with a curved tip. “And the same healing methods”, he carefully poked the bluebird right under her beak.
The bird livened, changed her melody and, a few moments later flew out of the window. The girl smiled.
“What did you do?”
“A reset. Happy birthday, Ahiluna.”
