Red Entaries

1 Friends Night Out

If it was only a dream, why did I not shake it but hold it still so firmly? Why did the sphere of glass not crack upon the moon the diameter of the palm of my hand, where I could squeeze as hard as I could, yet not so. My heart was in it, but why? A man's thought elapsed. He stood to release the tension in his hand, but before the shimmering globe was let go, he observed a three foot pedestal, half the size of himself, being a stature of six feet. He looked top to bottom to where the crown of the skinny neck was a bed cushioned to fit a bauble. The flat bottom had two legs, silver, heart shaped, and entwined. His great grandfather shared it too, he thought, his dream. He twirled the crystallized ball between his thumb and forefingers and around his fingers until it looked back at him like a giant eye,blinking, but not more menacing than the hard time he was thinking of, how the first moon colony was built, but in Trevor's case, yes his name was Trevor. He even believed he had a small amount of royal blood back to the dark days. The documentation could prove it, he would say, but as I was saying, Trevor was thinking of the first station on the moon. Trevor remembered when he imagined the moon as a young child, a platform for First Reach and many generations of men before Trevor was raised, here's how it goes:

A dusty old moon, like a shaved rock and bricks bashed together and shale that was as broken peanut butter brittle, but not little as some were the size of or half a man—but shrewd and congruent. These bits of rock or moon rock some might say, were used in the construction of a everyday First Reach public abode. It was built in the hardest of times, but not as hard as Moonlit, a ale that would bring you back to giddy childhood memories and a warm hearth's fire, like your heart, but its pour even as a steaming smelter to dry parched tongues in radiated heat.

Moondivers were risking their lives day or night. A rock, or, as they would have it, a pearl in the dark sea, a pricey timeless ripple in space-time. A ageless hope of mankind and the muscle within watching ever gleefully, as the expectant watchtower, waiting for her mother ship to one day part into her white shores. A sign of hope, she was the First Reach of Moon Lodger's Inn.

Trevor gently placed the moon rock back in its case with respect for his great, great grandfather who, supposedly, bought the antique at a steal. Trevor let go then smiled gently and closed his eyes. He saw for the first time why this dream meant so much to him. He himself gave hope to others, and if they were willing to look back into the past, they could see how Trevor made a difference for the moon colonists, but,being the overachiever as Trevor was, he wanted more.

Whenever Trevor had a dream another one bloomed as well, always one greater than the next. Now what can I do to surpass my great, great grandfather's dream? Trevor thought, as he moved to his desk which is ten feet from the door and the pedestal. So...I guess I am a dreamer, Trevor thought, as he sat down and placed his knuckles to where his thumb smudged his cheek into light wrinkles and rested his elbow on the verism table etched with art and a single desk light-unit. My genius of a grandfather did manage to found this company, and that was a breakthrough in his life, but what about me?He placed his fingers and knuckles on the table with his chin upon them. How can I have a bigger breakthrough than him? Trevor squinted.Thoughts kept passing by one by one, but there was always one hidden behind the others, a feeling since Trevor's childhood and if indeed this thought should be satisfied, he then would have a break through. Trevor began to look out the window of his penthouse office building, he could imagine it, a feeling of grace when his corporate space-jet would arrive, and It was do anytime from its current delivery. The jet itself was one-hundred twenty-five feet in length and could pack a punch through the atmosphere easily and breathlessly. Trevor got half way up his chair to meet the space-jet at its touchdown when his phone-unit began to beep. "This is Chairman Trevor Trahern of Lunar Life Corp, how may I help you this evening?" "Aye, it's Cliff." Cliff is one of the corporation engineers and a dear friend of Trevor's.