Sun’s court danced through the endless black ballroom, faces turned admiring toward her.
       Sun gazed into the distance, uncaring as befitted her station. However, she inclined her golden
       ear as her third admirer spun by, circled by a twirling attendant. The attendant, an unglamorous
       thing that stole what little radiance he had from Sun herself, was speaking.
                     “Aren’t you bothered by those lice, yet, Earth?”
                     Earth pivoted slightly, glancing at herself. She smiled. “Yes, I suppose they are rather
       annoying. They crawl about so much it begins to tickle.”
                     “Why don’t you get rid of them, then?”
                      Earth lowered her voice. Moon leaned closer to hear and Earth pressed her oceans toward
       him. “Truth be told – and don’t go gossiping, now – I’m growing a bit fond of them.” Clouds
       swirled across Earth’s blue depths in embarrassment.
                      “Fond?” Moon leaned back again. The oceans slumped into their beds, ashamed. “How
       embarrassing.”
                      The clouds swirled harder. “Well, you don’t hear what they say.”
                      “What do they say?”
                      The two little admirers swung around in front of Sun. Earth’s blue depths glittered
       in a smile. “They call me mother. Mother Earth.”
                     “Pff,” Moon snorted.
                     Earth wasn’t paying attention. “They think they have to save me.” She laughed, cooling
       breezes blowing across her belt.
                     “Save you?”
                     “Yes. They are so busy they cause me to get quite warm, you know. It’s killing things –
       little animals and plants. It makes them feel guilty – they think I’m dying.” She tittered. “Poor
       fragile things! They think everything dies as easily as they do.”
                     Moon glimmered. “They must be very conceited to think anything they do could hurt one
       as great as you.”
                     Earth turned a bit, letting Sun’s light catch her waters and flash off. “Yes, I suppose they
       are conceited.” She sighed and storms gathered about her brow. “It would be sad to be so blind to
       your fate.”
                     Moon chuckled again. “I see. You’ll be rid of them whether you want or not soon.”
                     Earth turned away from Sun, her face growing dark. “They don’t realize I will live no
       matter what they do to me. Warming and cooling are part of my cycle. They are only bringing
       the warming faster. It doesn’t hurt me. All they are doing is killing themselves. Poor, ignorant
       lice.”
                     Moon, his face eaten by Earth’s darkening mood, echoed, “Ignorant lice.”