The Rabbit On The Moon

You said you were learning Russian because you wanted to be an astronaut. And you laughed and apologised, remembering the friend who found such talk irritating because 47 was too old for dreams.

Once, you stood between the sun and the moon. There was a rabbit on the moon.

They said, then you can write an auto-ethnography about seeking refuge on the moon. 

You said you weren't going to the moon. You said you were going to Mars. You said you were going to be part of a manned mission to Mars.

You laughed and said you were not to be minded, you were being you, making connections where there might not be any.

You said you did not want to be a hero because bad things happen to heroes.

crow's call tears morning meadow's run

blackbird with white stripes bore news

squirrel,

giddy from dodging cars on Welford Road, cyclists on Putney Road, and buses on Aylestone Road,

markings on the road

You did not know if there was an age at which you have to stop dreaming, an age at which you have to pack away dreams the way some people pack away toys.

One day, in London, it was day and then it was night and then it was day again with no darkness at all in the middle.

And you stood between the sun and the moon.

The sun and the moon were like lovers pulling to each other over the rooftops because they could not bear parting.

do you remember how you got here?

why did you come?

do you remember anything?

If you let me, I could love you forever, said the sun to the moon.

The Shoebox

He opened the shoebox.

There were three envelopes in it.

He opened the first envelope and took out the piece of paper that was inside. On it, he'd written: “An elephant.”

He didn't think dates were important so he never put dates on any of the notes that went into the shoebox. If he put dates on the notes, wouldn't that make the shoebox, a journal?

He liked to think the shoebox was an incubator for ideas. So, maybe the shoebox was a journal of sorts. A place he could throw different things together without being too self-conscious about what went in, a place where he could mix things up and see how they grouped themselves together.

He liked the thought of ideas as things that are capable of making their own, independent associations.

He opened the second envelope. In it was a piece of paper with the number 3 on it.

He remembered when the first and second notes were written.

He took out the third envelope. On the note inside was a question. The question made him wince.

He put the notes back in the envelopes and he put the envelopes back in the shoebox.

He closed the shoebox.