January 7, 2025

Cool Moon

By Katie Coleman
Photo by Edvin Richardson on Pexels.com

“Driving’s not my thing,” I said looking at the orange-yellow moon. The car smelt of burning fields. “Wind your window up,” I said. 

How you love open windows, feeling the wind buffet your hair. Trails of morning traffic sat poised along the main road. As we neared the launch site, you said “That can’t be right, the moon that low.” 

I thought of stopping the car, taking a ladder to chip off a fat chunk of cool moon. You’d pass me a chisel and I’d break off a specimen. We’d suspend it above the dining room table. Visitors would say that’s neat, admiring the way you’d aim an angle-poise lamp to accentuate its lunar glow.

As we drove closer to oblivion, I promised I’d face my fears: do crazy things like booking flights to Astana or emailing my dad. If I didn’t embrace the fear, then we’d burn like flares.

When you turned the car around, slicing into the woods, pathways beckoned enticingly, but you wouldn’t stop. You swung around a bend and the tarmac widened. Again, you accelerated. The engine screamed and the gravel began to bite. Sparks leapt from the earth and g-force crammed my head against the headrest. My stomach began to float as you pushed our Fiat forward into the hot blazing space between the stars.

About the Author

Katie ColemanKatie Coleman is a British writer, currently living in Thailand. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Heavy Feather Review, Ghost Parachute,  Milk Candy Review, The Sunlight Press, SoFloPoJo, Bending Genres, Ilanot Review, Bright Flash and more. She has received nominations for Best of the Net and Pushcart prizes. She can be found on Twitter @anjuna2000

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Your Impossible Voice
Katie Coleman
Vintage photo of children lining up to receive bottles of milk during the great depression
a scarecrow behind bushes
photo of an old tv
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