As Luck Would Have It

He got old during the decades of routine, sleep walking, doing what he should. But then, right there, under a moon gone red with magic, he woke up. You can guess what a shock to the system that was. His heart lit up like a butane Zippo, and he couldn't sleep past four in the morning. He was confused because all of this was very new. He didn't know what to do, who to talk to. So he just fumbled around with only friends he had, a bunch of words he had picked up along the way and stuck in his pocket just in case something like this might happen. The only remedy available to him was to sing to her, the woman in the moon. He wanted, more than anything, to hold it close, this source of heat, but that wasn't going to happen. You can't contain or possess a rising moon. Just his luck, he thought, this incessant wanting of the only thing he couldn't have.