Sadie
Ryan Fallon
“Is it back yet?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? Did you look everywhere?”
“Yes.”
“Can I try?”
“No.”
“But you’re hogging it!”
“You don’t need a telescope to see the moon, dummy. You can just look up.”
“I know that, but what if it’s really far away now?”
“That’s why I’m using the telescope. You’d just break it.”
“Fine…Is Sadie coming back soon?”
“Any minute now.”
“What do you mean, ‘It’s gone’?”
“Kor, I am telling you,” Rhea said, pointing out the window. “It was right there, and it’s just–it up and vanished–I don’t know.”
“What did?”
Rhea sighed and tousled her hair before saying, “I can’t–I don’t know how to explain it without sounding insane, just check Twitter.”
Joyce Brodie
@JoyceBrodie
Soooo did the moon just vanish from the sky or am I #tipsymommy 😨
9:17 PM · Nov 15, 2022 · Twitter for iPhone
15.6K Retweets 2,464 Quote Tweets 35.4K Likes
NASA
@NASA
We are closely monitoring the situation with the moon and will provide updates when we have enough information.
9:17 PM · Nov 15, 2022 · Twitter for iPhone
542 Retweets 536 Quote Tweets 12 Likes
Mira
@crxckhead_Mira
should be calling my ex the moon the way he disappeared on me
9:19 PM · Nov 15, 2022 · Twitter for iPhone
405.6K Retweets 105.3K Quote Tweets 35.4K Likes
Mira
@crxckhead_Mira
omg a hit tweet
9:30 PM · Nov 15, 2022 · Twitter for iPhone
12.4K Retweets 5,012 Quote Tweets 14.6K Likes
Kor paced up and down the living room and kitchen of Rhea and his apartment, stopping occasionally to peek out the window and gawk at the mostly familiar, but now overwhelmingly alien, night sky. Rhea was buried in her phone, scrolling through her Twitter feed too fast to read any of it, lost in the simple, repetitive motion of her finger swiping and the avalanche of words flying up her screen and out of sight. They could barely hear the waves crashing on the beach a block down. The couple repeated their rituals over and over again without tiring.
Twenty minutes later, or maybe thirty, Kor stopped, and in a very deliberate manner that suggested he’d been going over how to broach this subject in his head for some time now, said, “What happens now?”
Rhea didn’t respond for a few moments, and Kor blushed. Then, she put her phone on the table and said, “I want to say that we’ll be okay, that this won’t change much about our lives, but, the Moon…”
“It’s a pretty big deal, right?”
“Yeah,” Rhea said, getting up from the couch. “I think it is.”
“I mean, it’s…I don’t know.” Kor was pacing again. “Gravity, I think, would have something to do with it,” he said. “And the tides?”
“The tides, yeah.” Rhea grabbed a bottle of wine, not realizing until she was holding something heavier than her phone that her hands were shaking.
“The Moon’s definitely responsible for the tides rising and falling, I remember that from, uh, wherever.” Kor grabbed two wine glasses from the cabinet and placed them on the countertop in front of Rhea.
“So, without it…” Rhea, with her nerves shot and hands shaking, struggled to pour the first glass of wine. She glanced at Kor who was again staring out the window. He caught her look and took the bottle, but his hands were not trembling any less than hers.
“Without it, who knows what they’ll do? Maybe,” he said, pouring the wine, ”Maybe we’ll…Shit!”
The bottle slipped out of Kor’s hand and shattered against the sink. The remaining wine burst out of the bottle and surged through the sink, sweeping up every last scrap of food and dragging them into the faucet. Rhea and Kor stood side by side, staring at the once populated surface of the sink now empty and stained red as the bubbling wine echoed as it coursed through the pipes.
Rhea grabbed a broom and started gathering the glass shards. Kor quickly followed suit. They said nothing until the floor was clean and they were sitting next to each other on the couch.
“We should probably read something about it,” Rhe said.
“Read what?”
“An article, or study, or something. About what’s going to happen next.”
“Oh, yeah, of course. My laptop’s right here, I’ll look it up.”
Each tap of Kor’s fingers on the keyboard was louder than the last.
“Okay, I found an article.”
“Reputable?”
“Is astronomy.com reputable?”
“…Probably?” Rhea said, and at Kor’s widening eyes added, “It’s good enough.”
Kor stared at the screen for a while. Rhea, although she was sitting next to him, chose to stare at anything but the screen. A minute later, or maybe five, she asked if he had read the article yet.
“Yeah, uh…well, no, not yet,” Kor said. “Actually, I was thinking…maybe we don’t have to read it right this second?”
“What?”
“I was just thinking, you know, if it’s good for us, we don’t have to worry.”
“And if it’s bad for us?”
“Then we spend the rest of our lives worrying. Maybe, we should try to have this one stress-free movie before we read the article, just in case it’s our last.”
“…What movie were you thinking?”
“Something terrible.”
“Holy shit guys, 400,000 retweets.”
“Mira, what the fuck that’s insane,” Tammy said, “Isn’t it insane, Cass?”
“Huh?” Cass said, jolting upright. She had been laying down, staring at the ceiling for the past few minutes, her expression intense. Mira and Tammy hadn’t seemed to notice. Tammy rolled her eyes and elaborated:
“Mira’s viral tweet–the joke about her ex? Isn’t it insane that it blew up?”
“Oh, right! That is so crazy! By the way, Mira, do you think you can…”
Mira shot her hand out in front of Cass and said, “Wait, shut the hell up. What if someone famous retweeted it?”
Tammy began pouring through her phone. “Oh my God, wait, that’s 100% possible. I’m looking through the retweets right now.”
Cass stared at the ceiling as Mira and Tammy got to work. They were in Mira’s room, with its lavender walls adorned with astrology posters and tapestries. Its shelves were full of lit candles and its carpeted floor with a bed and only two bean bag chairs, both of which Mira and Tammy had dibs on, leaving Cass to sit on a hastily constructed make-shift bean bag chair made out of a few of the many throw pillows scattered on Mira’s bed.
Cass’ gaze shifted to the open window above the bed. Just half an hour ago, everybody’s eyes were transfixed on that window. An overwhelming dread had seeped into the room. They couldn’t bear the silence, but they didn’t know what to say either. All it took was one joke for the dread to get sucked out and for the room to be buzzing with excitement again. Laughing at the thing made it easier to ignore. Cass sat up, took her phone out, and joined in the excited chatter.
“Taylor Swift retweeted it!” Mira said, all but frothing at the mouth, shoving her phone into Cass and Tammy’s faces.
“No fucking way!” Tammy took out her own phone and took pictures of Mira’s screen, “Wow, and that’s so Taylor, like that joke is her humor.”
Cass wanted so badly to be happy for her friend, but she couldn’t tonight. She usually let things like this slide, valued keeping the peace over speaking her mind. Maybe it was the unshakeable thought that had crept into her head earlier that said they all may not be alive much longer anyway, but she found the courage to say:
“Hey, Mira, I was wondering…”
“Cass. Cass,” Mira said, punctuating each “Cass” by putting a hand on Cass’ shoulders. “You have been such a good friend to me, and I don’t say that enough. Really, seriously, I never say it. This has been such an amazing night for me, and honestly? It’s because you and Tammy are here, not my viral tweet that Taylor loved. Your support for me is the most important thing. You are my rock.”
Mira wrapped her arms around Cass. Cass reciprocated. Tammy wiped a tear away.
“Oh, wow, that’s so sweet! Thank you, you’re really important to me too,” Cass said, bracing herself.
“Of course, we’re best friends. We have to stick together and support each other.”
“In that case, do you mind giving me credit for the joke?”
Mira recoiled from the hug and made a face like Cass had thrown up on her bedsheets.
“What.”
“Like, on your tweet?”
“What.”
“You know, because I was the one who said it first?”
“…After I called you my rock, Cassandra?”
“Did you find it yet?”
“Still no.”
“But it’s been forever! I’m getting cold. Let me try now!”
“Connor, I think we have to call it a night here.”
Ellie lifted her head out of the telescope and stretched. She grabbed the telescope and lugged it to the left end of the street, looking back frequently to make sure Connor was following. The cold was becoming unbearable, and as she walked, Ellie found herself trying to burrow as much of her head into her jacket collar as she could to keep her ears warm. She left the telescope next to the garage door of the Bryce’s place, although judging from the muffled cries coming from most of the houses on their street, a missing telescope would be the least of the neighborhood’s worries.
As they walked back, Connor tugged on Ellie’s jacket and said, “What are we doing now?”
“We’re heading back inside.”
“What about Sadie? You said she’d be back soon. Where is she?”
“She’s somewhere private. She’ll be back soon.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for her?”
“She’ll be fine.”
“Okay.”
Once she was in front of their house, Ellie looked back again and Connor was lagging behind.
“Is everything okay?” she called out.
“Um, yeah.”
“…Do you want to go back inside?”
“No.”
“You just said you were getting cold.”
“Well, yeah, but…” Connor tilted his head towards Ellie.
“No, you can’t have my jacket!”
“Fine.”
They stood in the front yard in silence. Eventually, they, like every other person on the planet that night, looked up at where the moon had been a little more than an hour ago. Ellie thought of an old story her History teacher had told about immigrating to America years before her parents. She told Ellie that it was hard being separated for so long, but that she had always been comforted by the fact that every night she knew her family was staring at the same moon as her.
“Is this the End of Days?” Connor said.
“What? Is that what Mom and Dad are saying?”
“They told me we’re getting raptured tonight.”
“Raptured?”
“Raptured…Are we?”
“No.”
The wind cut through them, howling.
“Probably not,” Ellie said, taking her jacket off.
🧚🧜♀️ Cass🧚🧜♀️
@cottage_cass__
Callout for @crxckhead_Mira. Her viral tweet is taken directly from a private comment I made. I tried to resolve this privately, but she reacted with hostility. This is deeply problematic behavior considering she is stealing the work of a third generation Italian American– (1/13)
11:10 PM · Nov 15, 2022 · Twitter for iPhone
4,503 Retweets 13.7K Quote Tweets 10.4K Likes
Mira
@crxckhead_Mira
idk this bitch
11:16 PM · Nov 15, 2022 · Twitter for iPhone
6,093 Retweets 20.4K Quote Tweets 11.2K Likes
Joe Biden
@JoeBiden
i made this happen with my powers
2:36 AM · Nov 16, 2022 · Twitter for iPhone
2.5B Retweets 4.8B Quote Tweets 7.12B Likes
“Holy shit, Joe Biden did this.”
“With his powers?”
“Yeah, with his powers.”
Rhea and Kor were nestled on the couch together, sharing a blanket, scrolling through Twitter despite themselves. They had watched “Fateful Findings”, and then before they could read the article, Rhea had pointed out that it was such a funny movie, with so much to dissect, that it demanded a second viewing. So they watched it again, and when that was over, wordlessly played it a third time, but on the third viewing, its spell had broken, and they were looking at Twitter again.
Finally, Rhea’s eyes caught the empty sky again. She sighed and said, “We have to read that article sometime.”
“Yeah, I know,” Kor said, “How about tomorrow?”
“We won’t read it tomorrow. It has to be now.”
Kor sighed and opened his laptop. His eyes darted up and down the screen. “So, it does affect the tides,” he said.
“In what way?”
“They would be reduced, but the sun is also responsible for the tides, so nothing inherently dangerous there is what I’m reading.”
“Huh. Anything else?”
“Yeah, it would throw off Earth’s tilt and basically destroy the seasons and the climate as we know them, but that’s not gonna be for at least a century.”
“So nothing new?”
“Nothing new.”
“Great, let’s get to bed.”
Kor started to lift himself out of the couch, but Rhea put a hand on his arm.
“That was just one article,” she said, “Do you think we should find another one? To see if the information matches up?”
“…No.”
Cass had never felt so cold in her life. She was not remotely dressed for the weather; her pajamas did nothing to shield her from the cold. She had just finished writing her call-out post and texting her parents to pick her up. Obviously, Tammy refused to drive her back, given the way she screamed “Et Tu, Brute!?” at her. She was still struggling to process the last ten minutes. There had been lots of screaming, lots of crying, the word “entitled” was thrown out dozens of times by both parties, and at one point Mira had threatened to throw stones at Cass if she didn’t leave right away. The whole thing was so stupid and absolutely not worth her time or energy, but she was still crying, and the tears threatened to freeze up on her face if she didn’t wipe them away soon enough.
Cass had wondered, in between shouting matches, when Mira’s parents would barge in to resolve the conflict, or even, for that matter, check in with them with regards to the moon thing, but as she walked downstairs, the door to their room was still closed and locked, and she could faintly make out somebody saying “though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me,” over and over and over again.
To her left, she noticed two people, a few houses down. There was a girl and a boy. The girl had her arms wrapped around her chest, shivering. The boy was wearing an oversized jacket. They were both staring at the sky. Cass looked at the sky herself, and soon found herself unable to stop. The feeling it gave her was too strong. It wasn’t fear, or even revulsion, it just felt wrong, wrong in a way that would bring her to her knees if the cold grass under her wasn’t so uninviting. It made her desperately want to get away, to go home.
She looked at Mira’s house again, then back at the two kids, transfixed on the sky the same way she was. She took a step towards them. Then another. Then another. But before she could get further, the door to the house opened and a man and a woman came out. They shouted something, but all she could make out was “Inside” and “Sadie,” and then they were gone, leaving her in the dark.
A few minutes later, her parents pulled up in front of her. Her mom practically leapt out of the car and hugged her as tight as she could. Soon enough, her dad had gotten out of the car and was hugging her too.
“It’s okay, sweetie, it’s okay,” her mom said, tears streaming down her face.
“We looked into it,” said her dad. “You’re not in any danger, everything’s going to be fine. Let’s go home.”
Cass tried to be comforted by their words, but she couldn’t help but notice they were looking through her, into the sky, uncertainty and fear etched into their faces. She stared into Mira’s house, where she knew her name was at that moment being dragged through the mud by her closest friends, and then she looked back at her parents, and had no idea what was in store for her at home.
“I think I want to stay here for the night,” she said. “I just- I just needed to see you.”
Her parents didn’t know how to respond. Cass hugged them, then took a few steps forward, then hugged them again, and then went back into Mira’s house.
Neither Kor nor Rhea could sleep that night. Neither would ever mention it to the other, but that night, both of them were staring at the same framed picture in their bedroom. It was taken during the first year they were dating. They stood next to each other at the beach, hand-in-hand, staring out into the shining ocean. Kor and Rhea looked at it and had the same thought: it was a beautiful night.
Sadie was in the woods, a few blocks away from her and Ellie and Connor’s house. She lay in the clearing, a spot that a few hours ago had been basked in moonlight. She spent the entire night crying there. She couldn’t stop crying.
Ryan Fallon is an English Major and creative writing minor graduating in spring 2024. He is from Middletown, New Jersey, and in the first grade received a perfect attendance award, but not the Presidential Physical Fitness award due to, he still insists, a personal grudge held by then-President Barack Obama.
He wrote “Sadie” as part of a Creative Writing course taught by Alfredo Franco. Franco selected the piece for inclusion in WHR.