Slouched on my roof, I watched the
swollen moon change from white to black to the blood red that had been promised
to us by the news. I turned my back on the beauty to face the skyline, where I
couldn’t ignore the precariously tall, starry-bright building the Phlebotomist
works in every day, and above it I saw the infinite sky where somewhere
hopefully resides my old best friend who was too earnest to survive, and I saw
all of the black space around me, where no angel was whispering that everything
was fine.
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