Set high up in the clear sky is a full moon, completely suffused with light. Its brightness stuns me momentarily. Free from distracting artificial lights, free from being blocked by massive buildings- it feels like I'm looking at the moon for the first time. It is achingly beautiful, radiating rays of glowing white light, and the world is bathed in a soft, ethereal glow. I think about the atoms that make up the universe. How it would take light-years to traverse through the galaxy, and be consumed by an infinity of space, of silence. How painfully inconsequential our lives are. I feel like Aomame in Murakami's novel 1Q84, as I gaze up, wondering if the world that I exist in is even real. Perhaps it's just a paper moon, a paper world that will ultimately crumble to dust and cease to exist. And then briefly, I let myself wonder, perhaps somewhere out there, oceans away, my Tengo is looking up at the same moon, our thoughts perfectly aligned. But then I stop myself. Maybe the idea of Tengo exists, but only in another life, in another world, in another reality.