Frolicking in the moonlight is a little like ballet, and a little like twirling around until you get dizzy and clumsy, and a lot like how you danced when you were little and didn’t know there was such a thing as someone watching you. Of course, going for a frolic in the moonlight is very different here, where even the moon is dimmer because of the lights, and cars are everywhere, and there’s no quiet. I think I freaked out several cars and one guy who was taking out the trash. Shh, I’m quite harmless.

“He awoke for no reason except that he had had a dream that the earth shrugged, or an earthquake had happened ten thousand miles away that no one felt, or that there had been a second Annunciation but everyone was deaf, or perhaps it was only that the moon had come into the room during the night and changed the shape of the room and changed the looks on their faces and the flesh on their bones and now had stopped so abruptly that the quick silence had stirred his eyes wide. In the moment of opening, he knew the streets were dry, there had been no rain. Only, perhaps, some sort of crying.” – One More for the Road by Ray Bradbury.

Ray Bradbury, I love you, I love you, I love you. You say all the things I meant to and never did.

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