December 28, 2009
It is a beautiful night, cold but nice. I climb up to the roof top of my host family’s chicken shed and watch the moon. The moon is nearly full, its radiant orange light illuminating the dark alley down below me. Except an occasionally muffling voice coming from the end of the alley, the night is quiet. The moon has been my closest friend for many years. Tonight, she is watching over me again, like many many nights when I was sad and lonely. Tonight, I am not sad, and I am not lonely either. But I am alone…
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