MEGHAN Holloway
Author, Librarian, Researcher
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The moon was so bright that it kept waking me throughout the night. When I first went to bed, from my front door I could see the moon where it crested over the pines and, beyond my sight, glistened over the black, high sea. At about one o’clock, it poured through the skylight in my living room and cast its long, pooling glow across the floor, hesitating in the doorway of my bedroom. And then at four this morning, it crept through my window, nudging me over to make room, and curled up in bed beside me like a serene, cool silver cat draped across my pillow.