Counting Down
Lying awake at night, Ilya looks out his window and sees the moon hanging low in the sky, and he wonders…and turns, shifting, to look across his bed, across a continent.
“Do you see it, Dany?”
The moon is fading into clouds tinged with pink, but Dany is still looking up and nods. He lets the early morning light wash over his face, feeling warmed, and imagines that Ilya might be feeling the same way.
“Two more nights left.”
Over the radio, similar yuletide carols are being played.
“Until Christmas,” as Dany smiles.
“Until you,” as Ilya sleeps.