| 7.05.01 The spanse of sky about the moon is weak, in its way. The clouds are flimsy, fainter than the dull stars showing through. The moon is bright, though, like it was last night. My toes sense moss below them, rather than grass. My hair is long, it trails behind me, troubling the wind to blow it about. I let the moon shirk behind a tree as I creep closer to my car, putting on shoes as I go. I slide into the driver's seat trying to not let the car door creak. If I turn on my headlights, perhaps this moment will flee. For once, this town looks beautiful. |