The Moon is Mine

How I Accidentally Hacked the Moon

I was just trying to fix my Wi-Fi.
That’s it.
The router was blinking like it had secrets.
I got mad, hit a few buttons I probably wasn’t supposed to, and whispered something vaguely threatening into the reset hole.

And then the moon flickered.

At first I thought it was a power surge.
But no — the actual moon in the sky blinked off and on like a faulty flashlight.
I checked the news. Nothing.
Checked Hive. Theories.
Checked my pulse. Still too high.

So I did it again.

Click. Moon off.
Click. Moon on.

I had become the accidental lunar admin.

The messages started coming through my microwave.
"Please stop. You’re affecting the tides."
"My werewolf boyfriend keeps glitching."
"You owe the sky an apology."

I didn’t mean to control the moon.
But I leaned in.

I added disco strobe mode.
Gave it a lazy wink every Friday.
One night I synced it to heartbreak frequency and three of my exes texted me out of nowhere.

Eventually, the government showed up.
I made them tea.
They left confused and slightly more poetic than when they arrived.

Now I run an emotional weather service.
Forecasts based on lunar glitches and metaphysical echoes.
Cloudy with a chance of closure? That’s a premium package.

It was all an accident.
Just a broken signal. A clumsy moment.
But sometimes the universe reroutes power to the exact wrong hands, and the wrong hands end up making something unforgettable.

Messy beginnings.
Genius by mistake.