Moon-Dance

She hardly looks up at the moon these days. That was their thing. Or rather his, and he transferred it to her. Or should she say he gave it to me. He could predict her moods based on the moon. Just like his mother, he would add.

Any other girl might have been insulted by that comparison. But she was always happier with that addendum. Just like his mother! She remembers her. Her hair cropped short and in an early morning tousle. She was leaning over him and kissing the top of his head. How could she not love a woman who loved him the way she did, she would think secretly.

And last week, it was a full moon. She heard someone mention it at the restaurant. So when she steps out of the restaurant, she looks up at the sky. There it is, over the waters, perfectly still. Like a silent spectator.

She notices the couple walking on the bridge arms casually draped over each other. He looks at the moon and pulls his lover in closer and kisses her quickly. He tells him something in her ear with a smile. He looks up at the moon and then retraces his steps back to where they had been. And then, he kisses her. Really kisses her. This time, he doesn't notice her.