She pulled down the moon one night. Lying in her bed, she ran her hand across the sky and felt the edges of the stars. Going over things in her head, she unconsciously picked at the side of the moon, peeling it from the dark sky. She only noticed once it was too late, once the moon rested softly in the palm of her hand. Cursing herself, she grabbed the glue stick on her desk and tried to paste it back up, but somehow, the moon wouldn’t stay.
She looked down at the circle in her hand that illuminated the dark room. What was she going to do? The moon had places to be and her room was not one of them. Running through the options in her head, she was startled by a knock on the door. Her fist closed and she looked up at the intruder, trying to act as though nothing was going on.
It was only her mother. “Dinnertime.” She nodded and her mother closed the door.
There wasn’t really much she could do. The moon wouldn’t stick back up in the sky and she had to go down to dinner. Thinking quick, she grabbed a Sharpie and a Sticky-Note. She thought for a moment, but then brought marker to paper. The letters curved around in a way that she imagined a celestial being would write, swooping gently and effortlessly.
She finished the note and went to the window over her bed. Reaching to the place where she thought the moon had been, she ran her thumb over the Sticky-Note so it would stay. She stepped back and admired the yellow square in the night sky, satisfied.
Shoving the moon in her pocket, she ran downstairs to eat, wondering if her note would be believable.
Be back soon.
Signed, The Moon.
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