I snuck upstairs to where the moon stayed. I wrapped
it up in a stolen black dropcloth and smuggled it back
down to the City of Sunshine. I took it right to the
Bureau of Thieves – I thought I'd be able to get some
good money for my bundle – at least enough to buy
some supplies: pens, writing tablets, some cigarettes
and coffee, a few new books and journals, maybe even a
pound of premium. I sat in the waiting room for 28
days. The moon wasn't doing too well – I'd need an
answer, and fast – a dead moon wouldn't do me any
good. I stared at the walls.