"Look at the moon."
Doug's nose is pressed up against the window glass. June is standing next to him, drawing sketches on a receipt.
"It looks just like someone is shining a flash light down from the sky."
"I don't care about the moon." Cathrin turns off the kitchen light. "When you guys are done watching it, close the window. I got eaten alive by mosquitoes last night."
"The moon cares about you, Cath." June wags her pencil reproachfully. "Think about that."
"No, it doesn't. It's in space. It can't care about anything."
"The moon isn't you" Doug turns around to look at Cathrin. "You shouldn't project your own apathy onto it."
"She's speechless." June smirks.
"Kind of" says Doug "like the moon."
When he's right, he's right. The moon, I mean.
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