The super moon wouldn't leave me alone. It was there when I woke in the morning, there when I went home at night. The light drilled into me through the built-up tar and paper roof over my bed, activated brain cells that refused to sleep until the sun came up and the rest of me had to rise. Ever the enigma, the full face refused to reveal just what the hell it wanted from me other than sizzling what little sanity I have left after all these years of confusion. It is no help right now as I sit, notebook open, in a meeting that will define my future duties as a semi-productive member of society. The lunatic, tragically, or luckily, depending on your view of things, has only his heart to lead him. The brain shrinks to the influence of a walnut in the face of a crashing tsunami. Rolling, rolling, in the surf, I am good for nothing and sit here in this meeting with my supervisor, cradling photons between thumb and finger, like a mandala, or oracle, knowing the answers but unable to move or speak.
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