I found Maria by the airlock, avoiding hyperventilation by puffing into the sack. Her hair swirled in the spaceship's low gravity. She gasped "It's starting!" before breathing into the paper again.
"What's starting?" I asked.
She pointed at the porthole. I looked out, into the black. "I don't see..." I said, then I did.
The moon, still dark and new from Earth's viewpoint, showed a different face to our spaceship. We saw the far side of the moon. It shone bright and full.
Maria's hand, now more of a paw, fell on my shoulder.
Behind me, I heard a growl.
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