When you wish upon a Moon.

The boy sat mesmerised, powerless to move away. To a spectator it would seem an invisible thread connected the child to his object of fascination, fusing the two together like a life long umbilical chord.

“If you don’t stop staring at the moon Ed, you is going to turn into a werewolf.” warned his sister. “It’s true I read it in the library.”

“It’s meant to be, “ he said solemnly, “its cause of mum, don’t you know?”

He made a vow that night, when his family were fast asleep; he perched alone on his bedroom windowsill and spoke in a low determined voice.

“I will do it, I will be the first, I will always be remembered, it’s my destiny, I will be the first.” He repeated those words over and over until dawn broke then fell exhausted into bed curled up cosy under his homemade quilt.

Thirty years later, the son of Marion Moon and her husband Edwin was disappointed. Very disappointed but he tried not to show it. You see, he wasn’t the first he was the second which shouldn’t really be any cause for complaint. But as friends would often remind him after one too many beers in the Sunset Inn, “Second man on the moon don’t have quite the same ring as first man, what you say eh Buzz?”