"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"Did last night really happen?"
"Yes."
"Okay."
The First Dream After
Space.
A ship hurtling toward the moon. Not very many passengers. I stayed on the outside looking in, like watching a movie that started in the middle of the action.
The ship moved through space like cresting waves, or maybe like a car driving through the Texas Hill Country.
Everything was ready.
Until the ship hit the moon's surface.
One survivor came from the wreckage.
It was comical because she had a glass dome over her head, but no space suit.
But what was unhinging were her legs; no skin, no muscle, no drip of blood.
Only bone.
Not a crash injury. Not a pair of Halloween leggings.
On the bottom, she was only bone.
Bare.
And somehow, still living given the pressure of space.
"Guys," she called into a radio she seemed to produce as though she merely thought it into existence.
"What's happening?"
"The moon is habitable."
***
What about the moon? Why would I be dreaming about the damn moon after the night I'd just had?
YOU ARE READING
Taking back the Moon
Short StoryA description serves no purpose but to lure readers in. So why should you read? Well, I attempt to make sense of rape in the form of prose, flash back, and poetry. It is what it is.
