My husband fell in love with one of the moon colonists. I should have figured it out when he kept
taking all those trips out there, but he’s a scientist, so it seemed…When I
kicked him out, he moved there to be with her.
Now whenever I look up at the moon, I feel so angry. I wish I lived a hundred years ago, when
looking at the moon just meant looking at the moon, and there wasn’t anything else
attached to it, you know? We’ve
conquered so much, but in doing so, we’ve opened ourselves up. We’re vulnerable now.
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