The moon is huge. It’s a rose-gold colour, hanging just above the rooves across the street in a sort of ashes-of-lavender sky before the sun has completely vanished, and it looks slightly gauzy. It’s stunning, and fills me with such contentment.
There’s beauty still.
Yes.
I think we shared that moment. I watched the moon as I drove eastbound from home to get Ainsley, from dust to full dark. I can’t explain the association, but for me it brought out feelings of gratitude for my family. Yes, there is still beauty.
“Rooves”?
Really?
Hooves. Also, dwarfs are very upsetting.
I love English. It’s such a wacky language.