He checked his watch under the glare of the waning gibbous moon. He’d been digging for twenty minutes now and the moment was fast-approaching. Decaying leaves in trees and decaying leaves on the ground. Dying bugs and dying plants. Death embraced the world. The crisp September wind didn’t improve things by rustling the leaves, giving … „To the Moon“ by Ioana-Mihaela Cozac weiterlesen