Death, Fiction

In the moonlight

She looked at the moon. It was shining light onto the balcony. The moon looks so pretty from here, how can it be so grey and ugly, she wondered aloud. The little one came to sit by her, his little feet hardly touching the floor. He asked her where his mother was – in the sky somewhere? That’s where heaven is, right? Or was she on the moon, floating around with her new friends? She looked at him and wondered what to say. She wish she knew the answer. Thankfully, the maid came out with the little boy’s milk and cookies, making a change in the topic of conversation.

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