Good Night

The crimson moon eclipsed the sky, bathing the field in scarlet. The air was hazy and moist. Two neglected children had run away from home and were lying on the grass, staring up at the red orb. A gust of wind caused a cascade of harvest leaves to fall over them, covering their faces, and their bodies. They didn’t seem to mind; their clothes were already dirty from running. As the temperature began to rise, crickets could be heard in the distance, playing, “Good night, good night” to the sleeping children. Elsewhere, a mother was crying into her husband’s shoulder.