White Moon Chalked in the Inky Sky. Musings in the silence of the night. He looked out the window of the bus, allowing the ungentle wind to wipe over his face. Drawing in a deep breath, he watched a chain of streetlights, a few roadside vendors and houses that lined the roads, pass him in a blur. Leaning further towards the window he. Weighed down by sadness, he slouched in his seat and threw his head back. The cool metal of the rod touched his nape and he closed his eyes.