They sat under the moon's shine, followed it's dance on the sea's surface. The day sat there inbetween the old man in his torn threads and the little girl in her new dress. The day watched as the little girl twirled under the moon with her red string, so full of hope. The beauty of her innocence had began to pull the day in, making him want to twirl with his dreams. The day looked to his right and saw the old man with his hand out, letting the pile of sand in his palm pass through his fingers as he watched the distance with his faded eyes. As if remembering all that once was; the day felt the sense of loss tug at his heart. He quickly turned back to the black surface with the light of the moon on it and asked, "Tomorrow, what makes you dance in your new dress?" She stopped her twirling and looked as if she was letting the words roll around in her head as she tilted it one way, then the other. Then she looked up and smiled her words, "I've yet to grow. What dreams may come is what makes me dance. I'm in a constant dream. I can do anything, be anything." With that, she skipped closer to the tide, chased it as it went back in itself and ran away as it stretched out to her. The day thought about that for a moment, "What point is there to dream if you cannot live it, chasing it, only to run when it's in your reach?" Not knowing what he was looking for, he turned to Yesterday and asked, "What is it that you stare at old man?" The old man still staring, let a deep sigh force its way through his thin lips. His shoulders sunken in with the loss of breath he speaks, "I am all but done. My skin is no longer tightly wrapped around me... My blood has lost its strength in motion, its warmth. My hands no longer able but locked in disagreement, voiced in its sharp pains. All those I've loved have passed to death... Death to our hearts..." The girl still chased after the tide and ran as it came to her. "I am all but done. All that remains are my memories." Somehow his shoulders fell lower as he whispered, "I've let it...pass me by." The day sat there silent, until a light began to come up from under the horizon. The little girl stopped, and let her arms fall to her sides. The old man took a deep breath, making it sound like it was his last, he stood. The light moved its way up and across, changing the colour of the sea. They watched as the sky became one with the ocean making it impossible to see the horizon. The old man then rested his hand on the day's shoulder; handed him the pile of sand and walked away. With that, the day looked to see that the little girl had been watching him, the day not knowing for how long, smiled at her stare. She then skipped over to him and held his hand in hers, placing the string in his palm, smiled her sweet smile and ran off humming. The moment had passed and the line between the sea and the sky had returned. He sat there and watched as the sun finally reached him, letting the sand pass through his fingers in one hand and the red string blowing in the wind in his other. He slightly tilted his head one way, then the other, letting their words roll around. It was his time now.