Call of the Moon

The cold brightness left the sky as the moon filled the land with heat and blackness. I shifted uncomfortably in my desk chair as I attempted to study for my final exams. The Moon didn’t used to give off heat; before, it was always the Sun. It made more sense, too, if you think about it. Fire gave off heat and the Sun was, well, a giant ball of flames. I remembered learning about it how and why their positions switched in school when I was younger, but I don’t remember the lesson, only that the lesson happened.

I brought my attention back to the numbers and equations; I couldn’t put off studying for math any longer. Eventually, hours seemed to have passed with me in my trance-like studying phase. The next time I looked up from my paper with consciousness, it was two in the morning and red glow was emancipating from my window.

The moon was as red as a strawberry in June. In a daze of fascination, I moved toward the window to get a clearer view of the moon where it wasn’t blocked by the oak tree growing outside my window. The next thing I know, I’m climbing onto that very tree and lowering myself to the ground. The heat burned my skin in ways I had never felt before, but my mind was too curious to stop moving, and I kept moving until I reached a plain corn field. Then I saw the bodies. Hundreds of bodies scattered through the growing corn stalks. Each one a little more burnt or melted than the last. I tried to run, to scream, but my body just moved me further into the field where I would remain.

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