>>877
"Please... would you... brush my hair?" you ask bashfully. She tilts her head to one side and smiles at you like an elderly dollmaker smiling at his finest creation. "Of course," she whispers. You sit by her feet and feel the bristles of the brush, in her loving, capable hands, glide along your scalp, easing apart your tussled, knotted, and in places burnt hair. You close your eyes and think of nothing in particular. The girl hums something: an old, simple melody; one you don't recognise, but which puts you deeply at ease.

>>878
You cannot locate, nor reach, the Moon or Sun, but - as it seems like fun - take a few minutes to reflect upon what "taking" a celestial body would even mean. It usually implies some sort of ownership, but ownership itself is already a somewhat cloudy issue. For instance, there is an American flag on the moon; does that mean it is "taken" by the USA? Well, no - but why not? Is it because they don't (or wouldn't be able to?) defend it from others attempting to take ownership? Is it the physical properties - proximity? Size? If so, what is the cut off point? A country can clearly be "taken", as history shows, but how could you take the Moon? You stir up all these arguments, but don't reach any meaningful conclusion.

>>879
You attempt to take on >>879, but unfortunately your only clue as to their identity is one solitary anonymous post on the internet, to which you don't even have access in your present predicament. You have no reason to suspect that >>879 is able to read your thoughts, but for what it's worth, you take them on via the age-old internet practice of groundless insult. "Fuck you. I hope you die slowly and painfully, you slow-witted, inarticulate sack of shit," you think to them.