Tonight the moon is a cracker, with a bite out of it floating in the night, and in a week or so according to the calendar it will probably look like a silver football, and nine, maybe ten days ago it reminded me of a thin bright claw. But eventually -- by the end of the month, I reckon -- it will waste away to nothing, nothing but stars in the sky, and I will have a few nights to myself, a little time to rest my jittery pen.
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5/16/2025 4:14:11 PM # 1.0.0