The moon is pink.
It hadn't always been pink. A vague memory of white at times comes to mind when I visualize the moon, with gray craters and an ethereal white light. I crave the sight, the normalcy of its beauty. Except, somewhere at the age of three- it turned pink. A soft baby pink, that reminded me of the sky at sunset.
The moon is pink but only to me.
YOU ARE READING
Penelope's Pink Moon
RomanceEver since she can remember, the moon has been pink. Penelope Acosta is a first generation college freshman, navigating through the growing pains of first love and trauma.
