Flash Fiction: Moon

The moon is the only thing that has remained the same. Everything else has changed.

Looking at the moon through my room’s window always makes me reminisce about the days that were. The days when I used to look at the moon from my own bedroom. When not every face I met was either an alien or merely a mask. I remember when I felt safe and comfortable in my own city, among my own people. Now, everything is duff, dull, and dim. I hate it.

Nowadays, I question myself about the moon as well.

Was it always this dark?


Word Count: 100

Prompts:

Friday Fictioneers 7th September 2018

FOWC with Fandango “Question”

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Sept. 1/18

28 comments

      1. Yes mate, she’s fine but yearns for the past when things were different to us, but safe for her. As old age approaches she finds the present ever threatening. It isn’t to us, but to her it is, i suspect we all have a tendancy to retreat into ourselves a bit as one ages, she’s losing her hearing too which doesn’t help, she doesn’t hear everything and so a little paranoia possibly exists.
        Thanks for asking!

        Liked by 1 person

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