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