Ricci Schwarzler - Lemon

They gathered under the light of the blood moon. Well, it was a dull red light but a light nonetheless. George looked around at his brethren. They were there to pray and adore the red moon. He spoke to his brethren every day. They hung around, all day and all night. They just wouldn't leave.

Actually, he couldn't get rid of them. Sometimes they would bump into him and annoy him. Quite frankly he was over this praying to a blood moon nonsense.

They would hang about naked with their skin shimmering in the red light. If he was honest with himself, he felt pretty bloody stupid.

‘All hail a blood moon,’ he would call.

‘Blood moon we adore you and we serve you,’ they all called.

‘Serve you?’ Who came up with that George wondered. ‘What a load of cultish nonsense.’

‘Oh blood moon help us understand.’

‘Understand?’ Now George was getting angry.

‘Understand what?’

‘Blood moon what must we do?’

‘Do?’ Queried George.

‘DO? How can we DO anything for God's sake. We never DO anything, we can't DO anything. I thought that was bloody obvious to all of us.’

‘Oh blood moon, you are our beloved god.’

‘Oh come on,’ said George rolling his green eyes.

Finally, the blood moon was gone.

‘Thank God, or some other moon,’ George moaned.

‘About time we stop this rot.’  With that the brethren began to weep. Little tears rolling down their faces.

‘Right, I've had it. Come on lady hurry up and move these idiots on.’

A lady walked towards them all. She looked at them lovingly. She touched some of them with her gentle hands. Then ever so delicately, but swiftly, she grabbed and twisted each one off its branch and put them in the boxes.

George looked on with relief.

‘Thank God they're all gone. Peace and quiet.’