Els habitants de la lluna

In a dimly lit council chamber perched on the moon’s oldest borough, a dozen representatives crowd onto low ottomans, their shadows dancing against glass lanterns and a colossal spider‑web of crystal. The young President—sharp‑featured, black‑bearded, and crowned with a soft‑brimmed hat—presides over a chorus of eccentric voices, from the bombastic Terratrèmol to the sly master‑of‑houses Fresques, each delivering their petitions in a lyrical, half‑whispered cadence that feels both ancient and otherworldly. The scene crackles with nervous energy as the group prepares to vote on a single, oddly specific article of their internal regulations, setting the tone for a story that blends bureaucratic satire with a vivid, lunar backdrop.

As the candle flames flicker and the glass spider sways, the debate spirals into a colorful clash of philosophies, hinting at deeper questions of authority, tradition, and the everyday absurdities of life far from Earth. Listeners are invited into a world where even the smallest procedural dispute can erupt into theatrical spectacle, offering witty dialogue, striking imagery, and a glimpse of a community striving to carve order out of the moon’s stark serenity.