The Moon

It’s 3am. An official phone alert wakes you up, buzzing urgently, angrily by your bedside. It says, “Do not look at the moon.” you have hundreds of notifications. Hundreds of random numbers are sending, “it’s a beautiful night tonight. Look outside.” your room is basked in a warm glow. The thick curtains cannot hide it. It is the glow of the moon. You walk to the curtains, you tell yourself you will not look at the moon, you just want to figure out why its light is in your room. A shudder passes through your spine, shiver in your legs. They stop, falter. A tremor and a fear pass through your brain. What if you can't stop yourself from looking up when you open the curtains. It would be so easy, and so hard to stop. You know you shouldn't. This is weird enough as it is. Curiosity gets your legs moving again. One step after another, you are watching them as if outside your body. Your body is indifferent, your brain in terror. Your hands part the curtains. Your neck cranes up. Oh, no