The Moonlit Fable

I was ready. Strapped in and over prepared, I was thrilled beyond imagination. We had taken off.  I looked at the city below shrinking as we went further up.

This will be revolutionary – I thought to myself as I scanned multiple news articles. I had all my research stacked orderly in my bag. The destination was not too far now. Breathing hastily, I looked around to see what the clouds outside looked like.

The journey was long, I do not mean to complain of course, but it felt like days. It was probably because of the impatient adrenaline pumping within me.

Finally, we landed. It was a smooth one too! I unbuckled myself and rushed out the craft, ‘beautiful’, I thought to myself.

I sprinted there, rushing and clicking photographs, what a great story this would make. The history, the fables – revolutionised. I looked around for clues and prints, I became a make-do Sherlock Holmes, but I was hardly one.

I could be there forever, but I felt that there was something conspiring; something that was meant to be there but wasn’t.

Finally, I removed my diary from my bag and made a note –

Completed the journey of three days, yet, no footprints – and more so, no flag.

It’s a lie’

I jumped across the surface of the moon and returned to my spacecraft. Armstrong was the fable.