Prisha Anne Mehta
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“I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word.
Sometimes I write one, and I look at it, until it begins to shine.
”


​- Emily Dickinson

Excerpt from Moon Touched (2016)

9/14/2018

 
​The sound of deep, slow breathing resonated through the house that night; I alone was awake. I drew back the curtain and peered out into the night. The moon greeted my gaze, the shimmering pearl in the sky. I pulled open the curtain further, and a shaft of luminescence trickled down through the navy black night, bathing my face in a pool of silver and spilling onto the cotton pillow like a still, rippling stream. A droplet of the purest silver, a beam of moonlight, had found its way down to me, and for a few precious moments, it was mine alone.
A tear traced its way down my cheek, turned silver by the light of the moon. As soon as it hit the pillow, more fell, and I began to sob, silent, shuddering sobs that seemed to shake the world.
The moon was the only witness.

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    I'm a 19 year old college student in New Haven, Connecticut.

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