Moonlight Depression
I don't own anything, except this stupid computer. Please leave constructive criticism for each flame.
Prologue: Everyone was clapping; they all enjoyed Ginger's performances. They all had tears in their eyes. This song wasn't like most of her performances where she was trying to seduce all of the men in the audience and make the women jealous. This was a remembrance song about someone calling for something that had long been lost, but was beloved. It had touched them all – Mr. Howell was reminded of his banks and companies, Mrs. Howell of her social parties. Gilligan and the Skipper were reminded of the beloved sea and the tragic fate of the S.S. Minnow. The Professor remembered his beloved lab, full of memories of past experiments. Even Ginger had reminded herself of the feeling of the spotlight and many cameras taking pictures of her - just her. They were all full of longing, and they all knew what the others were missing. "Except Mary Ann," thought Ginger. "She hardly complains, but I wonder what her tears are over."
Mary Ann sat up and listened to Ginger's breathing. She was breathing deeply, deeply enough for sleep. She crept out of bed, then out of their hut. Should she change? "Why bother," she thought. No one was going to see her. "I hope I didn't wake anybody up," she thought as she walked down the path that lead to the moonlight lagoon.
She put her feet in the water, sitting in the middle of the lagoon where the moonlight was strongest. She looked up to the sky. There was a single beam of moonlight shining through the clouds. A tear rolled down her cheek as she thought of her loneliness. She was single, just like the beam of moonlight. By new the tears were streaming down Mary Ann's face. She remembered the boys back home in Kansas and the Friday dances that they'd have every week.
She, being one of the only three unmarried women, was at a constant demand for dances. They'd have dinner, move the tables and chairs over to the walls, and she'd dance the night away. She could even have her choice of dance partners – there were so many male farmers, and hardly and women. Even counting the married women, she could pick and choose whom she wanted to dance with. Every man wanted a dance, so the night was filled with the company of many different people.
She sighed. They had parties occasionally on the island, but they weren't nearly as much fun; not nearly as many people, not as much dancing, and music wasn't nearly as good as it had been back home, which made the dancing almost no fun at all. She sighed again. After all, it wasn't like anything could be done about it.