The Moonbroch

The starry-eyed youth named Carson cast his gaze at the full moon.  His father had just cursed it, or rather, he had cursed those who dwelt upon it.

“A storm is coming,” his father said, gazing up at the low and looming clouds.  “A storm with high winds.” 

Yet another storm, the fourth one in as many days. 

“Soon it will storm day and night,” his father said.  And then he raised a fist to the full bright moon and shook it. 

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