Whole.

I hadn't noticed the moon watching me through the window until today. What a creep. I turned my face away from the wooden study table, where the ants had made their pilgrimage across its cracked surface. So oblivious to my war on their very existence. Perhaps they thought of that one spider poem every time I accidentally crushed them.

I looked away, far above the giant trees, into the dark sky. There she was, brighter than ever, but in half. I wondered if I could curve my back to her and sleep for a while. Or would she cut me?

Would I sink into her? It was only a play of light. She was never really half. She just stayed covered for a while, but if you saw her crescent, you’d think she’d stay that way. But she’s been whole all along.