A Little Piece of History
I had driven her to a lonely spot off-road, up to the top of a hill, where we could get a good look at the moon. It wasn’t full, only a half smile in the cyan sky. But it was the only thing up there; not a cloud to be found, and the sun was out of view from the windshield. I parked, and we sat, I in the driver’s seat, Maggie in the passenger’s, and we held hands, and we stared at the moon. I leaned over the wheel so all I saw was that pale white crescent. That’s all I wanted to see. Somewhere up there, there were people. Even I didn’t know how far away they were. 250,000 miles is too big a number to comprehend. The radio had switched over from …