Hilly mountain

🌙 The Moon That Waited

Every night, when the town went quiet, Aaru would sit on her rooftop, a blanket around her shoulders, talking softly to the moon.

It had started when she was ten — her father used to tell her, “Whenever you feel alone, talk to the moon. I’ll be talking to it too.”
He had said it before leaving for work overseas.

Years passed. Messages became fewer, calls became shorter, and one day they stopped coming at all.
But Aaru never stopped talking.

She told the moon about her exams, her first heartbreak, and the day she got her first job. Sometimes she laughed, sometimes she cried — but the moon always listened, glowing the same gentle way.

One night, tired from a long day, she looked up and whispered,

> “You never answer, but I know you hear me.”

A breeze passed, and for a moment, the clouds shifted — the moonlight touched her face like a hand brushing her cheek.

She smiled.
It felt like her father had said, “I never stopped listening.”

Since that night, she stopped feeling alone.

Good morning 🥱