I say nothing of the big yellow moon up ahead or the suspicion I harbour. I lie. The moon hangs like egg yolk over my head, ready to pour its sticky slime on me. I try to read.

Wow.

MASTERFUL! This read gripped me along, needing to define what or who our narrator is... finding the answers everywhere, and nowhere as I read along. Then the finale.... chills :) Thank you for this fantastic story @warpedpoetic