New Moon On A Monday

Funny Romantic Comedy

The office was a sea of sighs, coffee�'stained ties, and half�'hearted “Good morning!” that sounded more like a plea for mercy. The calendar on the wall stared back at Maya with a bold, red�'circled date: Monday, July 15�"the day the universe had decided to be extra cruel and drop a new moon right in the middle of the workweek.

Maya stared at the tiny black dot on the sky in the weather app. “New moon on a Monday? That’s like putting a cold pizza in the microwave and expecting it to be gourmet.” She sighed, slumped back into her swivel chair, and whispered to herself, “Great. Even the cosmos is conspiring to ruin my weekend.”

Her coworker, Ben, slid into the cubicle next to hers with a grin that suggested he’d just discovered the secret to life. He lowered his voice conspiratorially, “You know what that means, right?”

Maya raised an eyebrow. “That I have to schedule a ‘new moon’ themed Zoom call and pretend I’m a werewolf?”

Ben chuckled, then pulled out his phone. “Nope. It means the Moonlight Yoga class at Luna’s Loft is free tonight. They’re doing a ‘Full Dark, No Light’ session because the moon’s hiding. It’s the perfect excuse to ditch the office and pretend we’re in a rom�'com, you know, like… New Moon meets Monday.”

Maya stared at him. Free yoga? The word “free” sounded suspiciously like “fun.” She glanced at the clock�"10:45 am. She could survive a half�'hour meeting, then sprint to the loft before the class started at 7 p.m.

“Alright, but I’m only going if there’s a… thing,” she said, trying to sound non�'committal. “A… a thing that guarantees I won’t have to talk to anyone after the class.”

Ben’s grin widened. “Deal. I’ll bring the thing.”

The Plan

The next few hours were a whirlwind of spreadsheets, accidental “Reply All” mishaps, and an increasingly desperate search for a “thing” that would keep Maya from post�'yoga small talk. She scrolled through online stores, eyes skimming over cat�'ear headbands, glow�'in�'the�'dark yoga mats, and a “Mystery Box of Conversation Starters” that promised “awkward ice�'breakers for the socially anxious.”

She finally settled on a pair of LED�'lit socks�"they glowed bright blue in the dark. “If anyone tries to talk to me, I’ll pretend I’m a walking disco ball,” she muttered, adding the item to her cart. It was ridiculous, but it felt… safe.

The Loft

The loft was a converted warehouse with exposed brick, strings of fairy lights, and a massive floor�'to�'ceiling window that looked out onto the city skyline. At 7 p.m., the moon was a perfect, invisible black disc�"no light at all, just an inky sky. The room dimmed to a soft amber hue, punctuated by candles that flickered like nervous fireflies.

Maya arrived, half�'expecting to be the only one in a room full of strangers. Instead, a crowd of twenty�'something yoga enthusiasts milled about, sipping herbal tea and adjusting their stretch bands.

She slipped into a corner, unrolled her mat, and quietly slipped her LED�'socks on. The tiny blue lights pulsed, casting a faint glow that made her look like she’d stepped out of a sci�'fi Halloween party.

Ben, who was already in a Warrior II pose, raised an eyebrow. “Nice socks,” he whispered, trying not to attract attention.

Maya rolled her eyes, but the smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Thanks. I’m here for… invisibility.”

Just then, the instructor, a serene woman named Luna (no coincidence, Maya thought), clapped her hands. “Welcome, everyone! Tonight we’ll practice the Moon Hide and Seek flow. Close your eyes, let the darkness guide you, and let your inner light… maybe not literally, but metaphorically, shine through.”

Maya’s eyes widened. “Metaphorically.” She glanced at her glowing socks and tried not to giggle.

The class began. Maya moved through a series of sun salutations, her mind drifting between the soothing instructions and the absurdity of her glowing feet. The room hushed, the only sound the gentle rustle of breath and the occasional creak of yoga blocks.

Midway through a challenging balance pose, someone sneezed. The sneeze echoed louder than expected in the near�'silent space.

A young man at the front�"a tall, lanky type with a half�'shaved head and a tattoo of a crescent moon on his forearm�"looked up, startled. He caught Maya’s eye, and for a brief instant, their gazes locked. She was halfway through a tree pose, wobbling precariously, her LED socks flashing a rhythmic “blink�'blink” as she tried to maintain balance.

He burst out laughing, a soft, genuine sound that mingled with the ambient music. “Wow, those are… amazing,” he said, his voice low enough not to disturb the others. “Do they have a ‘do not disturb’ setting?”

Maya, cheeks burning hotter than the yoga studio’s incense, whispered, “They’re on ‘party mode.’”

He grinned, and she felt the ridiculousness melt into something warm and weirdly pleasant. “I’m Kai,” he said, extending a hand that was both firm and kind.

“Maya,” she replied, shaking his hand. He had a faint, lingering scent of sandalwood and something else�"maybe fresh coffee, maybe adventure.

The instructor called for a final relaxation pose, “Savasana.” Everyone collapsed onto their mats, eyes closed, the world outside fading away. Maya lay there, her mind a tangle of thoughts: a new moon, a Monday, glowing socks, and a stranger named Kai who seemed to have a knack for finding humor in the mundane.

She heard a soft chuckle from beside her. “You know,” Kai whispered, “I’ve been coming to this class for months. It’s my excuse to avoid dating apps and actually meet people in real life.”

Maya opened one eye, trying not to give away the fact she was still balancing the ridiculousness of her sock glow. “And the new moon?” she asked. “Is it a good omen for meeting people?”

Kai turned his head a fraction, his eyes catching the faint blue light of her socks. “I think the moon is just an excuse,” he replied, “to get out and do something. Whether it’s a new moon or a full moon, it doesn’t matter. It’s what you do under the light�"or lack thereof�"that counts.”

She smiled, a genuine, unforced smile. “So, you’re saying I should stop waiting for the universe to give me a sign?”

“Exactly,” he said, his voice gentle. “Or maybe you already have a sign, just in fluorescent office lighting and a coffee stain on your shirt.”

Maya laughed, the sound bubbling up like a child’s. “That’s oddly specific.”

“Because I’ve seen it,” Kai said, pointing to her shirt. “The coffee stain that looks like a heart. Who knows? Maybe it’s a secret love note from the universe.”

Maya considered this, feeling a strange flutter in her chest. “What if the universe is just trying to make me stay awake on a Monday?”

Kai’s grin widened. “Then we’ll just have to give it a better script.”

The instructor’s voice drifted in, calming the room. “Take a deep breath. Let the darkness nurture your inner light. When you’re ready, gently open your eyes.”

Maya opened her eyes fully, meeting Kai’s gaze. He was still smiling, his eyes shining with a mixture of mischief and sincerity. She felt the room’s dimness transform�"no longer a backdrop for awkwardness, but a canvas for possibilities.

“Do you want to grab a coffee after this?” Kai asked, almost as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Maya considered the absurdity of it�"a coffee shop on a Monday night during a new moon, with glowing socks. She glanced at the LED lights, which were now a gentle, steady blue. “Sure,” she said, “but only if you promise not to make any more moon puns.”

Kai raised an imaginary hand, solemnly swearing. “No more moon puns. Deal.”

Maya stood, brushing off her mat, and slipped off one of the glowing socks, keeping the other on as a small, ridiculous talisman. She felt oddly lighter, as if the weight of the week had been lifted by a single moment of connection.

The Coffee Shop

The coffee shop was a cozy nook tucked between a laundromat and a vintage record store. A sign in the window read, “Open Late �" Because Sleep is Overrated.” Inside, dim lights flickered, and the smell of roasted beans wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

Kai ordered a “Moon Milk” latte�"a caramel macchiato with a splash of vanilla, topped with a swirl of cinnamon that resembled a crescent moon. Maya, half�'tempted to order a “Blackout Espresso” (a name she invented on the spot), settled for a regular Americano, because she liked the idea of something simple amidst the night’s quirks.

They found a corner table, where the only other patrons were a couple of night�'shift workers and a man reading a book titled “The Art of Doing Nothing.” Kai placed his latte on the table, and the faint aroma seemed to make the space glow just a bit brighter.

“So,” Kai began, leaning back in his chair, “what’s your story? Besides the new moon, Monday, and those… brilliant socks.”

Maya laughed. “I’m a copywriter for a marketing firm�"basically, I spend my days convincing people they need things they didn’t know they wanted. My biggest challenge is convincing myself to get out of bed on a Monday.”

Kai nodded. “I’m a freelance graphic designer. I work mostly from home, but I’m terrible at saying ‘no’ to social events. That’s why I’m here�"my therapist suggested I get out of my own head and into the world. Plus, I have a secret fear of dark nights without any Wi�'Fi signal.”

Maya’s eyes widened. “You’re terrified of no Wi�'Fi? That’s adorable.”

He shrugged. “It’s a thing. I have a backup plan, though�"glowing socks. They remind me I’m still a kid at heart.”

She glanced at her remaining sock, which still pulsed a gentle blue. “I guess we both have our coping mechanisms.”

“You know,” Kai said, picking up a sugar packet, “I’ve always thought the new moon was a myth�"a story people tell themselves to explain why the night feels… blank. But maybe it’s just an excuse to get together and pretend we’re in some kind of cosmic sitcom.”

Maya smiled, feeling the conversation flow like a well�'written script. “Maybe it’s less about the moon and more about the people who decide to stare at it together.”

They talked for hours�"about movies they hated, books they pretended to read, the absurdity of office politics, and the weird comfort they found in each other’s company. At one point, Maya confessed that the LED socks were a last�'ditch attempt to avoid the dreaded “post�'class small talk” that everyone always pretended to enjoy.

Kai laughed, a sound that made Maya’s chest feel lighter. “I think the only real small talk is deciding whether the universe should send us a new moon on a Monday. I’m glad it did. It gave us something to laugh about.”

When the coffee shop finally closed, they stepped out into the night. The sky was still black, but the streetlights painted a soft amber glow on the pavement. The new moon, invisible to the naked eye, seemed to hang somewhere above them, a silent witness to the odd, unexpected connection that had formed.

Maya glanced down at her glowing sock. The blue light was now dim, as if reflecting the exhaustion of a night spent talking. She pulled the sock off, holding it in her hand, and smiled.

“You know,” she said, “maybe I’ll keep this as a reminder. Not that I’m scared of the dark, but because sometimes you need a little artificial light to see the good stuff.”

Kai took the sock, tucking it into his pocket. “I’ll keep it safe,” he promised. “And if next Monday comes with another new moon, we’ll be ready. Maybe we’ll even get a disco ball.”

Maya laughed. “Deal. But next time, you’re bringing the music.”

They walked home side by side, the city humming around them, the mundane world suddenly feeling a bit more magical. The new moon, invisible yet profound, had turned a terrible Monday into something akin to a rom�'com climax�"except with fewer camera crews and more awkward, glowing socks.

As they reached a fork in the road, Kai turned to her. “Can I see you again? Maybe… on a normal, fully�'lit Tuesday?”

Maya considered for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. As long as we don’t have to wear any more glow�'in�'the�'dark footwear.”

Kai grinned. “Deal. And Maya�"thanks for being my excuse to stare at the dark night and pretend we’re in a romantic comedy.”

She laughed, the sound echoing into the night, and answered, “Anytime, Kai. Any time.”

The new moon continued its unseen vigil over the city, oblivious to the tiny stories it had already inspired. And somewhere, in the glow of a half�'lit coffee shop and the flicker of a single LED sock, a Monday that once felt like an endless slog became the first chapter of something unexpectedly bright.

The end.