I stepped outside a few moments ago to take out the trash and I was greeted by a cold silence pierced only by own footsteps. Not a naked branch stirred as if all—living and non-living— huddled inward to protect against the cold. I looked north in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the green comet C/2022 E3 (ZTF), but I think it was too early and not likely to be visible from Los Angeles due to the light pollution. Perhaps I’ll try again 50,000 years from now. 50,000 years. It’s one of those random facts I loved to tell my dad about because he was nerdy about these things as well. I sighed and wondered where in all that eternity could he be. I dropped my gaze a little and saw the white mountain peaks eerily lit by the moonlight. Their majestic daytime beauty now looked ominous. Journeying up their slopes at this hour was sure to be treacherous. I felt forlorn looking at the moonlit mountains. I felt lonely and like I would never feel complete again. Like I could never be 100% happy ever again.

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