I was in the middle of a nightmare when I first heard it: a soft fwump sound, muted by the glass from my window. Not unlike the sound of snow falling off a roof. I caught a scream in my throat, as I was torn from my sleeping terror. My mind conjured images of landlords with bloody fangs and Stepford parents maintaining sickly sweet smiles, all breaking into my tiny abode.

I huddled on my bed, trying to hide under my cocoon of blankets. I hoped that whatever made that sound had eyesight like a T-rex. By not moving, I could convince it to go away and leave me in safety. Minutes of silence stretched on, and I finally worked up the courage to push my blinds aside and peak outside. What met me was the most perfect moon that I had ever seen. It was brilliant, a solid yellow orb suspended in air out of sheer force of will. Its surface was dimpled with craters in the same way a grandmother’s face has soft lines from smiling too much. 

There was not, however, anything that could have made that soft fwump sound. Perhaps I had simply imagined it in my sleep. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that had awoken me. More often than not, if it wasn’t a dream, it was a random drunk from the dance hall, who had managed to convince themselves that walking up two flights of stairs and through a “no entry” sign was the correct path to the bathroom. 

But that wasn’t the case tonight. The sound felt too external to be a dream, and the dance club was closed so it couldn’t be drunks either. I peered at the moon once again. 

“Did you knock on my window?” I asked it. The moon, being a celestial body, did not respond. I laughed to myself. I did that a lot these days, talk and laugh to myself. Anything to ward off the ever-present sense of isolation. “Goodnight, moon.” 

I cracked the window more before returning to my mattress on the floor. The night breeze felt so pleasant. As I lay back down on my pillow, I let my eyes wander to my desk lamp. It still glowed, but the sharp light from the moon dwarfed its paltry attempts at illumination. The moon drew my eyes away from my mainstay light source, and as I slipped back into slumber, I breathed a quiet prayer to it. I wasn’t religious, or even particularly spiritual, but sometimes, in moments like these, I feel like the moon’s calling to me. As my mind fell unconscious, somewhere in vestiges of my thoughts, an irrational sense of hope bloomed. 

~

The same soft thwump woke me again later in the night. I was expecting it this time, in the pessimistic way where the worst possible outcome is the most realistic. I didn’t scream or call out when the sound appeared that second time. I simply huddled in my bed, sinking lower into my cocoon.

I was surprised, when a hand poked through my window and batted about, trying to reach at my desk lamp. The arm was thin, with a feminine hand and nails the color of dried blood. They looked sharp. At first, I thought the arm was covered in a sleeve, but as I watched it try to stretch through my window, I saw that it was actually covered in velvety brown fuzz. I must be dreaming. 

In my dream state I wanted to try to pet the arm, to see how soft it actually was. My body stood up with little encouragement from myself, and crept towards the invading appendage. As I moved closer, I heard very soft sounds of exertion coming from the window, and presumably the person who was attached to this arm. Her voice was light, breathy, and calming in an odd way. 

Her arm continued to bat about, trying to stretch for my lamp, which was just barely out of her reach. A few of my knick knacks and books were knocked on the floor as the spectacle unfolded. It was only in that moment that I remembered there was no ledge or fire escape on this window, it was a sheer drop, four stories down, to the alley below. This realization did little to convince me that I wasn’t dreaming. 

As I was operating under the belief that this was not real, just some vivid fever dream (perhaps I’d finally caught the plague), I called out to her. “Do you want any help?”

She gasped, and the arm snaked out of the window in a panic. I pulled the blinds open and found myself face to face with the girl who had somehow climbed up my building and was attempting to steal my lamp. My question evidently terrified her, and she pressed herself just below my window sill, in a futile effort to hide. Regardless of her attempted theft, I was awed by her strength and ability to hold onto nothing but the wall. She had a blanket spread across her shoulders, also held flush to the brick face. 

I pushed the window completely open and leaned out. God bless old buildings and a refusal to put screens on them. I could barely make her out in the dim nighttime light. The only thing illuminating her was the dingy light from the street lamps that cast haphazard shadows all over the alley. She looked up at me, and the faint light reflected off her eyes, making them seem black. They had a strange texture to them, but I figured they were goggles or glasses or something. Around her neck was a scarf that looked so fuzzy and soft that I wanted to run my fingers through it.

“Can… uh… can I help you with something?” I asked. Whatever dream this was, I felt like seeing how it played out. 

She looked up at me and seemed to shrink further into her scarf-blanket. “May I come in?” Her voice was so timid. 

“Why?” 

“I want to see your light.” I blinked at her answer. How do you even respond to that? “I saw your glass barrier shining and I wanted to know what it was. It is the most beautiful light I have seen. Please, may I come in?” There was an earnest pleading in her words. It felt like she knew her request seemed insane but hoped in the depths of her heart that I’d relent anyways. 

“I don’t see why not.” After all, it’s not like dreams can hurt me, and this was far better than the ones that had been plaguing me earlier. I leaned a bit further through the window and reached my hand out. “Here, let me help you.” 

She looked in my eyes with a soulful expression. “I cannot say how much this means to me.” The girl loosened one of her grips from the wall and pressed the hand into mine. I latched onto her wrist, and braced my body to pull her up. I wasn’t a particularly strong person, and my destitution diet had done little to add any strength or fat. 

So when I summoned all of my power to lift the strange girl, her unexpectedly light weight sent me sprawling onto the floor. She sailed through my window and onto a soft, albeit bony, cushion: me. She couldn’t have weighed more than thirty or forty pounds. My conscious mind was reeling at the action and impact. It logic’d that she only felt light because this was a dream, but a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t was finding its way into my subconscious, making me question my own reality. 

She collected herself off me and stood up. It was only when she pulled away that I realized how unbelievably soft she was. It was like the perfect, flannel softness. As she stood up I realized the blanket was in fact a cloak that was connected to her massive fluffy collar. She pulled it closer to herself as she dusted herself off. Perhaps that was what felt so soft. “Thank you, kind one. May I please see your light now?” Her voice was so nervous and cute. That word sprang unbidden into my thoughts. I generally wasn’t one to feel attracted to people on a whim, but this girl felt different. 

“Uh, sure. Let me just fix it real quick.” In our tumble into the apartment, it had been knocked off the desk and wound up unplugged. I replaced the cord into its wall socket and the calming yellow glow once again filled the apartment. I wiggled my hands in a mock presenting stance. “Ta da! Light! From my very own lamp. Now can I ask you why you needed to see this?”

The girl didn’t seem to notice my words. Her goggled eyes widened in pure awe as she ogled the lamp, basking in its light. I could fully see her now for the first time. Her frizzy brown hair was streaked with silver and a few small leaves and twigs stuck out of it. I fought back an urge to groom her hair for her. The cloak that she’d wrapped around herself was gorgeous. A very similar mottled brown to her hair, but with a yellow trim around the edges. Red and white stripes highlighted her shoulders, but that’s not what really drew my attention on her cloak. As she stalked towards the light, stretching out a hand to touch it, I saw there were two spots on the back of the cloak. Two massive black and yellow spots, looking like some sort of misshapen eye. It was a beautiful garment, and if I had any money, I’d ask where she had gotten it. 

I tore my eyes away from her cloak to look at her face more. It wasn’t every day that a girl found her way into my  apartment.  I gasped as my gaze drifted upwards and I saw them. Sticking out of her hair were two antennae. Pale brown strands that shifted about over her head, this way and that, as if sensing the world around her as she stood enchanted by my lamp. The feather-like plumage on her antenna tapered at both ends, fanning out in the middle like a dried leaf. What was this woman?

She took another step forward and tenderly touched the lightbulb with the tips of her fingers. Her face displayed an utmost reverence for her actions. I wanted to warn her that it was probably too hot, but I doubt that she would have noticed and I was still processing her unexpected antennae, anyway. Her glasses, or whatever they were, absorbed the light being emitted by the lamp, and I gasped once more as I realized those were no goggles. They were her eyes. I had assumed they were eyewear because the pinprick texture all over them seemed so strange. Now, in the light, they looked a bit more human, just with black sclera and glowing yellow irises. But when they were paired with her antennae, perhaps my assumption of human was too much. What if she was an alien or something worse?

My suspicions were not alleviated by what happened in the next moment, but it did distract me from them at least. After holding the lightbulb for several seconds, she proceeded to grab the neck of the lamp and try to dodge out the window as though she thought I was going to stop her. I probably would have tried, I’ll give her that; it was my favorite lamp after all. Unfortunately, she attempted to leave by means of the top half of the window which I hadn’t opened and proceeded to thwump against the glass with a similar sound to the two I’d heard earlier. Her mad dash tore the plug from the wall, and once again my apartment was lit by nothing but the moon. 

She lay there on the ground dazed. In a flash, I retrieved the lamp and retreated to my mattress, giving her an evil eye in return. The girl stayed there motionless for several minutes, before I began to hear soft sobs coming from her. She pulled herself into her cloak and shielded her eyes as tears began to pour out. Sympathy flooded my senses, paired with an equal portion of guilt. This was my fault. Everything was my fault. I was such a failure, why did I even leave my parents? I should have listened to them. How could they be wrong, they raised me? A new wave of crying from the girl tore me from my spiral. 

I crawled to her side, leaving my light fixture on the bed, and patted her arm. “It’s… it’s going to be ok. I can find you another lamp somewhere. Actually, you can take my lamp. It’s fine. I didn’t actually want it. You probably deserve it more than me anyways. It’s fine. It’s fine. It will all be fine.” The words spilled out of me and I couldn’t stop them. Before I could say anything else, however, she lunged forward and wrapped me in a massive hug to sob into my shoulder. I sunk into the embrace and struggled to contain my own emotions. This was the first actual human—er, humanoid— contact I’d had in months. And the first hug in years. 

Finally, she pulled away, a glistening trail left by her tears streaked her face. “I’m sorry, kind one. I wanted your light for an offering but I broke it and now neither of us have it.” The girl’s jaw trembled and I felt more tears about to erupt from her. 

I awkwardly wiped away the girl’s tears and shushed her. “Sh shhh. It’s ok. It’s not broken.” I disentangled myself from her and returned to the mattress, plugging the cord into one of the plugs near the bed. The light flickered back to life. “See, perfectly fine.” 

Her eyes once again glued themselves to the lamp. “That is very clever. Without the magic rope, no one can steal your light.” She pointed to the cord. Despite myself, I smiled. She tentatively stepped towards my mattress and perched herself on the corner. With outstretched arms, she pleaded for the lamp and I passed it over to her. She cradled the lamp in one hand with a gentle touch, like a baby, and stroked the shining bulb with the other. It was oddly touching.

“This light is very happy.” 

“What? Is it… alive?” 

She cocked her head at me as she thought, scrunching her cute button nose at the effort. “No,” she answered finally. “It collects your happinesses and sadnesses and the other ones. This is a very happy light...” Her voice trailed off as the light once again captivated her. 

We sat together, her petting the lamp, and me letting the light sear my eyes. I simply enjoyed being in her company, but that may have just been my social isolation talking. I coughed politely to get her attention. “So, what do you need that lamp for?”

She looked at me for the briefest of moments before returning to the object of her affections. “Tonight is a gifting night, and I wished to give the best gift possible to the Great Light in the sky?” 

“Which one? The moon?”

She furrowed her brow again. “Yes, that is the human word. This would have been a very good gift. It is not just a light. It is your light. You have cared for it and I cannot simply take it.” She began to shake again and tears blossomed in her eyes. “And it’s nearly too late and I don’t know if I’ll be able to find a good light before there is no time.” I shifted over to her and gave her a comforting squeeze. 

“It’s ok, we can figure something out, miss... Do you have a name? And how long do you have?” 

“The time to give our gifts is very soon. I do not remember how humans measure time. But once the sun is directly below us and the Great Light is above.” I looked out the window. The moon was pretty high in the sky now. I gave it another hour or two before it would be at its peak. “And I like to be called Polly.” 

“Ok, that’s good to know, Polly. So—” 

“What are you called?” She looked at me with breathless excitement. The question caught me off guard, and a name slipped out. 

“Rose.” Polly squeaked in glee as I clapped a hand over my mouth. I hadn’t meant to say that. I shouldn’t have said that. That’s not me. That’s not me. No matter what I think, that can’t be me. It was just a name I’d tried online before my parents kicked me out. My name can’t be that. It has to be– She ran her antennae over my face, stopping my brain. The soft touch tickled, like a cat batting me with its tail. 

“I love that name! It is good for you.” 

I immediately began to deny it. “No, no. I misspoke. It’s not me. I made a mistake. I can’t be Rose. I’m not—not a....” The word died in my lips. As much as I wanted to say that I wasn’t a girl, it was also a complete lie. I hated myself. “...a girl.” 

She cocked her head at me in confusion. Her antennae continued their exploration of my face and neck. “Are you sure? You sense much closer to a Sister than a Brother. Unless you are a Sibling. I know several Siblings.” One of her antennae tickled my nose and I sneezed. 

“Can you please stop with your head things? Please?” I pleaded. “I’m not your sister. Hell, I don’t even think I’m a decent human being...”

The antennae retreated from my face. “I did not mean my sister, Rose. I meant a Sister. And if you do not desire to be a human, have you tried not being a human?”

I rubbed away a few tears that were threatening my eyes. “No it’s fine. Let’s get back to your light issue. What makes my lamp so special? Is it because it’s a ‘happy’ light? Are the streetlamps not happy enough?” 

She nodded silently, and stroked the lightbulb again. I thought I imagined it at first, but it seemed like her hand was dipping into the bulb itself. “Yes. Light that means something is the best light. We try to honor the greatest light of all by finding a light similar to it. So many wordmakers praise the beauty of the Great Light, and discovering one that has as many emotions is the greatest gift one can give.” 

“Ok, I think I understand.” 

“I am able to take a source of light, such as a stick with the hot orange light. But I cannot take the light itself without asking the person who looks after the light. And this light is yours.” She looked at me with pleading eyes, and I understood what she was asking. “We could trade? I may take you to see the gifting.” She cast her eyes down. “It is all I can offer.”

I laughed, half out of desperation and half out of disbelief. “Sure. Take the lamp. I don’t need it. I just like the light because it calms me. I can… just get a new one, I guess. Don’t worry about me though. I’m perfectly happy where I am.” 

She batted me with an antenna. “You stop that. I need the light only, Rose. Not the whole object. And you will come with me. I would not like to take an important light from you without giving something greater in return.” Polly tried to put an authoritative tone into her voice and puffed out her chest to look more intimidating. It just made her look and sound adorable. I felt a sinking sensation when I realized that I had already made the decision before I’d even thought about it. I was going to go with her. I’d been trapped in this apartment for so long that the outside world felt like a dream. There were worse ways to spend the night, I reasoned. Plus, I didn’t have any work tomorrow. 

I nodded in assent and she clapped with excitement, before pillowing me in another massive hug. I finally found the mental wherewithal to look at her body as she tackle-hugged me on the bed. Beneath her cloak, she was shorter than me, which wasn’t difficult because of my wrong-shaped body, but every part of her was covered in that same dense fuzz. It almost seemed like a bodysuit. It was the softest thing I had ever felt and I imagined even angel feathers felt like toughened leather compared to her. If I could stay in her arms like this forever, I think I would, but she pulled away. I whimpered at the loss and hoped she didn’t notice. 

Polly scrunched her face up again as she refocused on the lamp. Looking closer now, and burning my eyes in the process, she was indeed sinking her fingers into the brightness. She pinched and kneaded the light as if it were dough, slowly working it out of the bulb itself. Occasionally it would slip between her fingers and zip back to its source, and she’d moan in frustration at having to restart.

“It’s ok, Polly you can do it.” I put my hand on her shoulder for support. The touch felt electric and she redoubled her effort to draw the light from the lamp. Minutes later she was finally able to completely coax it from the bulb, and we cheered at her achievement. She held the light in one hand and placed the lamp on the ground. 

She leaned her head against me, fussing my hair with her antennae. “Thank you for your support, Rose. I have never been good at taking such strong light.” We separated and looked at each other. I lost myself in her eyes. Even with how strange they were, her eyes were absolutely beautiful. The yellow irises looked like a lunar eclipse. My breath stopped when she cupped my cheek and leaned forward. I thought she was going to kiss me but instead she held the orb of light next to my head. 

“You have a beautiful light, Rose.” Polly whispered with a blush. “The light inside you. It’s so much like this one.” She looked deeply into my eyes before gasping and skittering back from me. She circled her fingers around each other and looked down sheepishly, in an adorable manner. With a nervous tone, she asked “Would… Would you like to bring another light to sacrifice for yourself?”

“Wait, you can teach me to do that light holding thing?” 

She nodded, blushing again. “Mm-hmm. Well, not right now. But I can. Soon. Hopefully.”

It was such a crazy suggestion, and it almost felt like she was asking me out on a date. But that would be absurd. No one could like a fuckup like me. For all I knew, whatever she was planning on doing involved tearing my guts out once she got me alone…. More alone. At the same time, she had been really nice so far. Maybe I was worrying for nothing.

“Alright then.” I glanced around my apartment trying to find some other kind of light. My eyes fell on a box of glowsticks tucked away under my desk. The dance floor had left these out by the trash, and I could never say no to free things like that, so I stole the lot of them. No one had come asking for the glowsticks, so I assumed they were mine to keep. I grabbed a handful and showed them to Polly. “Will these work?”

She took one with her free hand and dangled it in front of her face. “There is no light in this. I do not understand how you will use these.” 

“Oh, right, sorry.” I cracked one and let the blue light slowly fill the tube. Polly’s jaw would have dropped off her face if it weren’t connected. 

“I did not know humans had magic…” she said breathlessly. 

“No, it’s just chemicals, I think.” I giggled, and promptly felt awkward at my voice. “W-will they work?” 

She nodded vigorously, and I worried she’d give herself whiplash. “Yes. But don’t use their magic yet. Bring them with you!” She glanced out the window and gasped. “We must leave now if we wish to get there on time. Meet me outside.” 

Polly leaned over and gave me an unexpected kiss on the cheek. Before I could respond, she jumped off the mattress and prepared to dive out the window, but she froze before doing so. Instead, she tested the window, to find where the glass was, then began climbing out. I laughed at the action and she tossed a sheepish grin. She launched herself off the window sill like a swimmer starting the backstroke, and I rushed to the window to see if she was alright. 

In the radiance of the full moon, I saw her. I saw her for what felt like the first time. The cloak that Polly had wrapped around herself was a magnificent pair of wings. She was no alien, she was a moth. Polly soared in the lunar light, holding her own light close to her chest as she performed an intricate aerial dance. I was enchanted by the view. I also soon realized she was not wearing anything under her wings. That soft fuzziness was just her body, and I blushed at the thought. Too quickly, I lost sight of her in her flight and I was left completely alone once again. 

With only the moon left shining into my room, that creeping sense of isolation threatened to take over. I closed the window, completely this time, and struggled not to collapse. If my parents found out that I wasn’t caring for myself, that I was throwing my life away for something as stupid as this, they’d hate me… hate me more. I should just stay here. There’s a plague going on. What the hell am I even thinking? 

A tapping at my window broke my reverie. Polly was perched outside my window again, beaming at me. She beckoned at me to come outside, then glanced at the moon and motioned to me again with greater urgency. I sigh-laughed. There were worse ways to die, I supposed. I dug out an old drawstring bag I had and began stuffing handfuls of glowsticks into it; mostly the pink and yellow ones. I took one last look around my humble home before catapulting myself down the stairs.