Monica Deaver offered the moonshine to Ellie. Ellie demured.
They sat in the soft glow of red coals. The bright stars wheeled imperceptibly overhead. Monica stared up and Ellie stared at Monica. Monica’s cohort clustered in groups around other fires. Most slept but some also looked skyward.
“Going to be tougher tomorrow,” Ellie said. Monica nodded. “We’re getting close now.” Monica nodded again and Ellie asked, “Are you crazy?”
Monica looked at Ellie. She drank. “No, we’re not crazy. We just want to see it.”
“It. Whatever it is. But when the ring closes, something is going to happen.”