"Man on the Moon"
I am sitting on the roof with a leftover bottle in my hand. Looking into the dark void of a still sea below. Looking up at the night sky, with clusters of stars peaking out between peculiar tiger stripe clouds. It is May. It is warm. And an old woman is dying in a house on top of the cliff. I am listening for sounds. But it’s gone all quiet. No whispering wind.
No stumbling waves. No screams of agony. Just a quiet hush, engulfing this bay and the small peninsula where we live. Death can be like that sometimes, I think. Life just a flickering candle abruptly extinguished with a quick breath. Then two headlights break the spell, slowly moving down the dirt road with gravel crunching beneath rubber tires.
It stops close by and the cabin light is turned on. I hunch down. There is a man talking on the phone. No urgency it seems and soon he drives on. I follow the headlights with my eyes as they move up the hill, dragging the darkness behind them, until they are gone.
She is dead. I can sense the pain, the relief, the muffled crying, the ceremonial voice announcing a fact. I can picture them all sitting next to her bed. But I hear nothing.
About the author:
Anders Sebastian Wennesland is the inventor of the BazookaGoal, a manic reader and an aspiring author. He has had some creative writing experience in classrooms and on his own, ands published one short story in the Kingston Writing School Anthology.