We stood in small groups, huddled close to one another, in the forlorn hope that this might help us, and we looked up at the sky. A loud voice echoed from behind the dark clouds that were blocking the sun’s warming rays.
“Oh my children!” it cried, “Why do you ignore me?”
We dropped to our knees, hands clasped together in prayer, eyes fixed on the ground.
“I took away your moon and stars in the hope it would bring you to your senses, but still you anger me. You leave me no choice. Tomorrow I take away your sun.”
The assembled crowd huddled together as the biting wind cut across the field they’d gathered in. Winter was on it’s way and it didn’t seem to be in the best of moods. On a night like this most people would normally have been in their homes, fires lit and windows barred. But these were not normal times. As the wind sliced through them they heard a voice high above them, a voice they recognised. “Citizens,’ it cried, “Yesterday you disappointed me and I took away your sun. Take care not to upset me again or you will lose your moon.”