As Close as Can Be – a micro story – by Brynne Sissom
Rob was up on the roof again. Up here he was as close as he could get to the Moon. Patiently, he stretched out his arms and closed his eyes, remembering his dreams. He leaned left, then gently right. Turning this way and that had been so easy.
The dreams had started in January. In them Rob had skimmed the tree tops, flown over to Bart’s house, and on over to the market and seen the parking lot, the lights dimmed for the night. Now straddling his family’s roof top, he sighed. Nothing worked. Rob’s shoulders drooped and cupped his cheek in his hand. A breeze ruffled his hair, cooling him.
His right eyebrow lifted and he shook his head. It seemed that flying just happened. He just found himself out there, flying. Last night he had found himself in a cratered place. When he looked at his feet in the dust, he had seen footprints—wide round booted ones. He had suddenly recognized himself on the Moon, and the shock of it had awakened him, wide-eyed.
“I was on the Moon! I saw the footprints!” his mind shouted. Rob had slipped out of bed to look out his window at the Wide White Moon shining down. His Dad had said that Sunlight brightened the Moon at Night, that the Chinese, who lived on the other side of the Earth, saw the same Moon as he did.
“How was I out there? How does it work?” he whispered to the night. His young fist pounded softly on the windowsill. Rob shouldered a tear off his face, climbed back into bed and fell into a quiet sleep. Moonlight flooded his room, casting a soft glow over a poster on his wall of two Golden Eagles soaring on thermals.