Christian Moldes

The Nile The Nyle The Nihil

The sky above her is the color of gunmetal, hammerless but deadly. She knows the light speed rockets that pierce the atmosphere are the closest things to shooting stars she’ll ever see. Celestial wonders if her name was coined by the streaks that puncture the sky, but she is old enough to understand there's something greater beyond the ash that clouds her adolescent wonder. She imagines they resemble the sparkly dots that populate her dreams, or perhaps were conjured up by lost generations whose naked eyes witnessed the Third World War.