Lunnah picked herself up, turned on the squeaky faucet, and splashed her face with cool water. The vanity mirror became a canvas, containing the portrait of a fragmented girl with puffy red eyes—puffier than the one time she had a severe allergic reaction to penicillin.
She wanted to die on that bathroom floor—preferably transmogrify into flecks of iridescent stardust and reintegrate back into some star cluster from whence she came.
More often than not, she was disappointed when she was still alive and kicking once her alarm declared the beginning of a new day.
But death would ensure she couldn’t exist in the same way she had been for years, for all of eternity. She wouldn’t get to see sunsets through the same set of eyes. Her hands wouldn’t draw the countless surrealscapes her mind concocted. Her bare soles wouldn’t feel the damp dirt and overgrown grass.
If the moon got sucked into a black hole…
1. The night would dive deeper.
2. The tides would be at a near-standstill.
3. Our planet’s rotation would destabilize.
…And maybe humans could survive, but the sun would have lost its companion, and so would Earth. Let’s face it, there would never be a moon quite like it, overlooking the majestic, life-luscious third rock from the sun.