Sublime

The moon had been observing the earth close-up longer than anyone. It must have witnessed all of the phenomena occurring – and all of the acts carried out – on this earth. But the moon remained silent; it told no stories.

“It’s constantly there, but it’s archaic, turbulent, whimsical, vast, and everchanging, differentiating the days even if I’m looking out of the same window. The moon is my favorite companion.”

Without the light from the moon, the night was so dark he could barely make out the trees until he was almost bumping into them.

Streaming in through the window, the moonlight cast long shadows and splashed the walls with a touch of diluted Indian ink.