When Comes The Moon

AN: Hey guys! So, this is an original short story I wrote last year. At that time I wasn't so proud of it, but reading it now, it actually isn't so bad! This is the first time I ever published on Wattpad, so I hope you enjoy what I wrote!

"Just how well do you know, Dale?" Gareth the old bartender, and my oldest friend since arriving here questioned me.

"You say the Moon once touched our sea."

How well do I know! I cried offended by the thought of me ever forgetting. The rest of you may not remember, but I can. We had her on top of us all the time, that enormous mystic Moon. When she was full, nights were as bright as day, but with the silver starry light. It looked as if she were going to crush us. When she was new, the Moon rolled across the sky like someone's lone umbrella blown about by the wind. It was a miracle if I ever saw one. 

At the time the whole business of the Moon's phases worked in a distinctive way, considering that the distances from the Sun were different; the orbits and the angle of something or other, I forget exactly what. As for eclipses, with the Earth and the Moon stuck together the way they were, it was inevitable, so much so, we had eclipses every minute. Naturally, those two big celestial bodies managed to pull in into the shade of the other constantly, first one, then the other. Some good for nothing fools thought it to be God's punishment.

"The Orbit?" asked Gareth, listening intensively.

Oh, it's elliptical, of course! For a while, the Moon would stay tight against us and then it would move on for an hour, or so. The tides, when the Moon curved closer, rose so high nobody, and nothing could ever hold them back, they were that strong. Rushing over cliff tops, trying to drag them into the sea. There were nights when the Moon was full and quite, quite with, and the tide was so high that the Moon missed a dunk in the sea by a hair's length, er, well, let's say a few meters anyway.

"Could ya climb up on the Moon, or did ya ever try?"

Of course, we did, no one would pass that opportunity. All you had to do was row out to the Moon in a boat and when underneath it, prop a ladder against her and scramble up, but patience I'm yet to come to that part of my story.

The spot where the Moon was the lowest, was off the Copper Cliffs. We used to go out with those little rowing boats they had in those days, round and flat, made of cork and wood. They held three of us at a time. Me, Captain Daniel, and his wife Margaret. On those nights the water was quite serene, so silvery it looked like mercury, oh and the fish in it, shimmering violet-coloured, unable to resist the Moon's attraction, rose to the surface, all of them. 

God, how miraculous it was, the scenery so warm and satisfying it wrapped you up in a comforting blanket. The wind rushed past our heads and swirled around us making its own unique music. Like a magpie singing to the full moon, its voice full of sweet, unadulterated love. Creating the mood of romance and magic, which I would, later on, see the irony of.

Reaching the Moon, one breath, and the Moon's tantalizing smell intoxicated you. Lavenders and roses, with a hint of mint. Immediately upon reaching the Moon, you felt its aura pull you in like a tide would pull a shell. 

Captain Daniel lifted up the ladder and hung it on one of the Moon's small ledges. Once making sure it was sturdy enough to hold his weight, he climbed up and hoisted himself on the Moon's surface. Next Margaret did the same until it was my turn to climb up. Making sure to be all the more careful than Daniel and Margaret, I slowly put one foot in front of the other, as no one was in the boat holding the ladder steady. When at the last step, Daniel pulled me on the Moon, dropping the ladder in the boat.