A Short Catastrophe

The city lay at her fingertips. Except for the company of the moon, she was all alone, and she knew it’d be some time before the others woke. Hours of silence, of stillness. Vigorously shaking her head, she shoved the pathetic thought back down. Of all the things she was, lonely was not one of them. A lone wolf, after all, was not lonely. So she gazed down at the city that belonged to her as surely as the sky belonged to the moon, and felt an ache in her chest that had nothing to do with the miles that separated her from everyone sleeping down below, and everything with the way her own body and soul refused to rest, if only for a little while. The city was hers, but her mind was tired. The city was hers, but there was no one to share it with.