A sliver of story. A morsel of moon-mania. Sheila Heti begins in the first person: “Nobody ever accused me of being bright, which I am glad for.” Immediately, the question hinges on the swing of the title— is this the moon giving a monologue, or is this one of those monologues to the lunar issued by a moonstruck poet ? Heti speaks to the moon the way she speaks to a cockroach, namely, with intense interest and curiosity. Her stories thread eeriness by connecting the real to impossible. A pleasure to get lost in Heti’s forests.
Published in The Middle Stories, McSweeney’s Books, 2012