My dreams were in sequence: two parts of a single story that were braided together. A single day of my life became the intermission.
In the dream, the moon was shrinking. I was staring up at the sky...and then I woke up. The whole next day, I read about the moon.
In the sequel, the moon was lost...I watched videos on my phone, desperate to try and understand what had happened here...The moon was lost.
The easy answer is that it was an omen, or some kind of fear about the world ending. Maybe the moon was a symbol of some stability rocking.
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