she would steal glances at him and notice the little things that he does when he is sad. there is a strange vicious wind in her heart that leaves her feeling as if her eyes were stung by sand. it was hard to move in her body supported by her creaky bones.
it was hard to say that both of them were even in the same world. if she were the moon, then he was the sun for all she ever did was orbit around him longingly, yet never touching.
does he talk to the moon, as she does, each night as he lies in bed with his soul feeling empty, yet full? they would be sharing the moon, wouldn't they?
one half for you, one half for me.
YOU ARE READING
The Other Side Of The Moon
Short Story❝ hey moon please forget to fall down ❞ ⦅ will scrap soon ⦆
