"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?
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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.