Sept. 27, 2011. 01.

I remember that night, the first night. When all of the lights in the city went out and there was no more light pollution, no orange haze in the sky. A full moon so bright that it could dry up your tears and chase all of the bad things away and wash all color away until you were new. The sky was clear and the stars were hidden not by city lights but struck by the moon's gaze, so strong that it could pierce even the darkest of nights.

Only the brightest stars could hold against it. Blindly, I turned, sending long shadows dancing over the remains of my home. They seemed to mock me.

A lone star stood, strong in the sky. Piercing. I followed it home.

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