The Moon would never be the same again. She'd never be able to look at it in the same way, never be able to go back.

Nothing would, actually. Nothing would go back to being the way it was. It had all changed, in ways she didn't fully understand - she never would understand, didn't expect to.

She'd presumed that some things in life were constant. That you could rely on them - tides, stars, earth, and her elder brother.

The tides were changing, sea levels rising. The stars had shifted without her noticing. The earth was meant to be changing, if you believed in climate change (and she did).

And as for her elder brother....

Everything had changed. It was different now. She was looking at the moon on her own, staring upwards, looking at an unfamiliar pattern of stars. He was meant to be there to talk to her, explain the pattern, tell her about the moon, inform her of the tides, talk to her about climate change.

She curled her feet under her, sitting on the grass, where they had sat together as children, before feeling her mother's hand in hers, tugging her to the ceremony


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bespectakate (joined about 13 years ago)
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Ladygirl of a British persuasion; sometimes I actually write stories that aren't depressing (but not very often)

I write for the, which is a webcomic about superheroes. Interesting ones. Cute ones, too. Which is nice. (It's cheerier than most things I write. That's where the happy goes, guys.)

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The Moon would never be the same again.
Prompt suggested by the-arraignment


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