Resting my head on the pillow. The digital clock before me, glowing through the night in it’s retro orange digits, slowly ticking forward a minute at a time as I lie awake restless.
Turning n my other side, I can see the moon. It’s giant glow illuminating the window and oozing through to my room.
I can’t sleep.
The choice between the digital clock and the moon from either side, I always choose to roll over and view the moon. The third option, the ceiling, is a blank canvas needing some form of imagination dripped upon it.
The moon rested in the night sky, a few stars blinking in the distance around it with the odd bit of rock floating in it’s vicinity.
Every night I saw it stand there, floating in it’s segment. In a split half, magically situated in the night sky as the other half revolved in rocks close by.
What could have caused it, I’d never know because the adults never talked about it. In fact, they acted like nothing was the matter and that at it’s core, well the actual core of the moon was still there.
The reason I could never sleep, never go off into a deep slumber and a wild dream was because I always was thinking about the moon. How it looked whole and how it happened. It made me stir inside and didn’t sit right with me.
When I finally got to sleep, my dreams would be filled with the thoughts of the object. The rocks would float together and like puzzle pieces find each other into place to form the full moon once again.