The moon woke me up at 4 am, staring through a crack in my curtains at me. I got up, rolled a smoke, poured a finger width of mead into a glass, and went to stare back at it in the yard. Spotted a falling star. The night was so bright, but some stars were out.
I left the mead out for the fairies.
I left the mead out for the fairies.
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