lil story i meant to upload earlier but da gifs didnt work o-o'

Moon is a very lonely place.

The orange hue covering the landscape at dusk, a breeze that carries my name like a ghost. I cannot remember when I started to appreciate these things, it might’ve been from before I was born. If that world shared my name, or was something else entirely, I don’t think I’ll ever know. 

Autumn leaves falling like snow—were they always that color? Did I paint those leaves as I did myself upon my birth? No—it had to be subconscious. I cannot remember painting the leaves orange. Although, truth be told, I still cannot remember the full extent of my birth either. I do not think that the entities that find themselves drifting in and out of my soul were created as I was. 

They speak of sensations unimaginable. A strange sensation they called “pain.” Something I cannot begin to fathom. Maybe I should ask what it’s like, but I hardly have the time to. They appear as quickly as they leave. After all, Moon is a very lonely place. 

A wish.

What had I wished for?