The First Night

Last night, I was smoking a cigarette in the parking lot of my hotel, sitting on a partition. The next day held quite a bit of power but it was ambiguous: triumph or tragedy? I was unpacking the possibilities of various hypothetical scenarios when I looked straight out, over the edge of the wall, and became quite still with rapture. The moon was obviously in its crescent stage but it was out of focus; its color and form blurred chaotically with the squinting of my eyes. I sat there for half a minute with my mind motionless.

The shape in the sky appeared progressively brighter and closer. From my seat around the tires, this was certainly not the moon anymore. If not the moon, then what? Is this an asteroid science has somehow missed? Am I losing my fucking mind? Is it full blown dementia from here on out? I rushed forward to the railing. I needed resolution. What was this unidentified, amorphous object, floating in space, hurtling itself closer and closer to the moment when it would be the cause of my death?

I looked out above the now visible interstate and saw a dark mass of clouds floating quickly over my head, conforming my perception of the moon to its own will.