Frosted Silver

Something about the full moon and the way it paints the the fields below in a frosty silver stills the soul in ways it’s hard to comprehend. Almost like everything is frozen in a calm so deep, breathing seems like a rude interruption to this perfect little world. Then a small rabbit peeps up and they peer into the eyes of a human that seems all too foreign and yet familiar, only to dart away before the moment has even begun. The trance is broken and the moon goes back to just being a sphere reflecting light onto a world that never stops turning.


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