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The Moon- Part One
"You know, no matter where you go, its never bigger than your thumb."
I turned around to look at him as he came around to sit next to me on the picnic table. His voice was warm and smooth. Just being near him made my skin feel like it was on fire. I looked back up at the moon and held up my thumb, giggling.
"You got that from Dear John."
He laughed. "What? Dear John got that from me!"
I looked at him and air got caught in my throat. That had been happening a lot lately. He took my breath away just by talking. Laughing. Even smiling. I broke my eyes away from his and looked down at my sneakers. They were caked in mud from climbing up and down the river banks earlier. I had slipped and he caught my arm just before I hit the water. I had never been so close to him before. I didn't want to move. I felt like could have stood on that muddy strip of land tight in his arms for years. He cleared his throat, breaking my thoughts.
"It's freezing over here. Want to go sit by the fire?"
I hesitated. Just go, the voice in my head told me.
"O-okay" I got up and followed him around the tent to the logs around the fire. A piercing wind blew and I pulled my hood up. He put his arm around my shoulders. Electricity ran through my body.
"The fire will warm you up." He said smiling at me. I was pretty sure it wasn't the fire that was warming me up. Once again I looked up at the moon, now larger and higher in the sky. A surge of bravery ran through me.
"Tell me a story." I said looking him directly in the eye. His eyes moved from me to the fire, as if he needed to gaze at the dancing flames to think. His expression grew serious, his eyes distant. Finally he looked back at me and asked, "Did I ever tell you about the time I fought in World War II?"
I couldn't help myself. I exploded into giggles. It was just like that for a long time. He would talk and I would laugh. And every once in a while, the light of the fire would catch his eyes and they would shine. It was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. Happiness shown in his eyes and it filled me with joy to see him so full of life. He was unlike anyone I had every met before. And I loved that.
Hours later the moon was on the far side of the sky, signaling that our night together was coming to an end. We were all crowded in the tent when I offered him what little amount of extra pillow room I had. He scooted up next to me and we laid on our sides facing each other, the back of our palms just barely touching. We kept joking and giggling until the others had shushed us so loud that we knew we had to grow quiet. I looked into his eyes one last time before rolling over and going to sleep. He smiled and looked up threw the window in the top of the tent to the moon. I did the same and took in a long deep breath. I would never forget the way the moon looked that night. Pale, white, crisp. And smaller than my thumb.
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This article has 9 comments.
That was beautiful, very sweet and well-written. I love the moon too, it's lovely. Excellent job. Keep writing!
Btw, will you check out and comment on my work?