Moon

My son asked for the moon today.

I couldn’t reprimand the love of my life for placing impossible demands. And I couldn’t get the moon either. Lightning struck, in the form of a mythological tale I had heard in childhood.

And I got the moon for him – in the mirror. I just had to turn the mirror around to face the window, and pull the curtains open. Now, he wanted to touch it. Poor me!

My husband interjected,

“The most beautiful person in the world is your mother. Just touch her face, son! You would have touched the moon.”

Touche!

(100 words)

 

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