Today is mid-autumn festival in the Chinese culture, sorta like the equivalent of Thanksgiving, when families get together and celebrate kinship. Tonight the moon is supposed to be the sharpest and roundest in the entire year, symbolizing perfect (re)union.
I catch a glimpse of the moon tonight, peeking back from behind a treetop silhouette. A famous ancient poem comes to mind - my loose translation will put me to shame:
The moon rises above the tips of willow branches
An after-dusk date made
Alas, 'tis after dusk. There shalt be no date. No family, either. And, saddest, but saddest of all, no mooncake.
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