#Fun fact: a giant asteroid impact like the one that killed the dinosaurs is much less likely now that Jupiter has collected them into the

[obesecamels]

Today's episode of overthinking:

What if you woke up tomorrow to news coverage of the moon being impacted and knocked out of orbit by an unfamiliar pale heavenly body. It didn't have much of a streak because it moved through no atmosphere. It simply appeared, glinting in the sun, blending in to the blue sky on its shaded side. It hit our moon, and she blushed and fumed. It took her away, and it all played out in daylight, in full silence.

There were shockwaves, they say - something to do with gravity and magnetic fields - but you couldn't feel it. You watch the footage again, and you wish you could've seen it in person, but how could you have known? You were so far away, sleeping soundly.

And what would you have done, if you had?

The tides cease - or technically they "slosh" backwards and forwards for a few days as the ocean adjusts to being moved by its own spin alone. A lot of maritime and calander matters need to be fixed, but the work gets done, because it has to.

How do you mourn the moon? All of your ancestors knew her, but there's no way to bring her back. The night stays so dark. There's nothing anyone could've done.

It's like the family pet has passed, and right when you were just old enough to care for her yourself. We'd been there! And then we stopped going. Maybe it's just as well. Maybe she should only have to know the distant worship of ages past. Surely our half-baked plans of colonization were not to be borne.

And yet she didn't know us. We had a moon, is all. And now we don't.

There are so many pictures of her, taken with cameras much better than yours. You dream of seeing the moon, large and luminous. Everyone does, these days. For a moment, you think the moon's just not out right now, but then you Remember.

Did you say, "Look at the moon!" enough? You should've done it more.