Pallid Moon
The fog thickened as Theo stepped off the path and into the field, and the sound of crickets seethed outward across the silent space. Tendrils of mist rose from his back and hair streaming behind like a tattered, ghostly cape. The night was alive with a gentle hum, its energy being fully exerted in every small display of exhilaration. From the cacophony of reptile chirps to the constant whir of locusts, and from the strobing forest to the accented flurry of leathery wings, he felt a pure connection to the night. He lost himself to the luxury of the experience of this blissful and natural chaos.
He inclined his head, basking his face in pallid moonlight, forgetful of his burden. His eyes focused on the space between himself and the tree line, allowing the flickering insect lights in the trees to merge with the sky and its twinkling array of starlight. For one moment he felt he was at the edge of the world, peering into the vast array of nothingness, content to drift away.
His shoulder ached suddenly and he was far from complete in his task. He longed for a better place and a better time, but alas, he was who he was. Lately that seemed to be as close to nothingness as he was ever going to get. He walked a bit further into the field and dropped the large garment bag which landed with a sickly, wet thud at his feet. He grasped the handle of his spade firmly and began to dig. For nearly two hours he labored, careful to separate the sod from dirt beforehand. Digging, digging, beneath the pallid moon.
