When the moon was full, Immer lowered her hair to the Earth, a silver net with snarls bound tight as a captain’s knot. Kneeling down, she plucked the strands of her hair like a harpist.

            In the tension before dawn, Immer raised her hair, scooping birds and bugs away from the Earth. Immersed in her net, they dreamt. She ate the birds, swallowing them whole since she couldn’t bear the sound of small bones crunching. The bugs she cooked in a stew. Next came the bacteria and viruses, fungi and protozoa, which she brushed out of her hair as if they were burrs. With care, she sorted the smaller life forms.

            Once done, she scattered the microorganisms above the Earth like rain, except for the most deadly and beautiful. Those, she sprinkled along the surface of the moon.