Eva May Juez

Drowning the Moon

One day, the sun didn't come up. I walked to school under the silver moonlight with my backpack on one shoulder and tried to remember if I'd locked the door. I wasn't sure but it was too late to go back anyway. The street was busy and there was a traffic of umbrellas which seemed to whisper as they rubbed past each other, although the rain had stopped a while ago. As I gazed at all their different colours, the feel of wood under my fingers made me realise I was holding one, too.