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The Man in the Moon

September 11, 2016
My run in with the Man in the Moon was a strange one. 

His body was dressed in a tuxedo and His head was awfully round. It always seemed like it was lit up, or glowing in a way, which I guess signified that He was living. He approached me outside of my house one night and asked me if I've looked up at the sky lately and noticed anything unusual. I told Him, "I hadn't, I'm sorry," because I haven't, and I was. He didn't reply with words, but rather came closer and stroked my cheek. I wasn't scared, since we knew each other and all. His hands looked like His head, glowing slightly and stupendously rough. His temperature was not hot nor cold, just comfortable. I asked, "What are you doing down here?" He bashfully looked down at His radiating body of light and said, "I don't know, I wanted to star gaze for a while." I thought this was strange since no one in the world could have a better view of the stars each night, but I accepted this answer. I put down my book and purse on the front porch, and took His hand and started walking. 

We walked and held until we got to a park at the end of my neighborhood, and I led Him to the roundabout ride- you know, the spinning bars that we went on as children, spinning until down was up and our eyes were crossed. We laid in between the bars on opposite sides, heads touching at the top. His was perfectly round and mine was incredibly not. It felt like my skull was up against a brick wall, and I liked it. We looked up and saw. We saw the Big Dipper, we saw Cassiopeia, we saw shooting stars, and we just saw each other for a while. I even think I saw some of the planets, but only when I squinted hard enough. Everything in the sky was moving all around. Everything on the ground was incredibly still. Eventually, the time fused together and I no longer knew what time it actually was, but I didn't care. I closed my eyes, and listened to the wind bouncing off of our bodies while He continued to watch with open eyes. Did He ever blink? 

When I opened my eyes again, which could have been days later for all I knew, we were back at my front porch, standing where we once were. He came closer once again, since we weren't much for talking, and He stroked my cheek. He smelled like rose water. I looked up while He said, "Thank you," and then He turned to go all too fast. I said, "Wait!" and reached out for Him, to take His rough hand once more. "When will I see you again?" He seemed to half smile and tilt His head toward me. "Tomorrow night we'll pick up right where we left off. Goodnight." I watched as He walked down my walkway onto the road, listening to His heavy foot steps, and then He was gone. I didn't feel sad, since we keep in touch and all. I closed my eyes and said, "Goodnight, Moon." 

It was terribly cloudy that night.

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