Day 205: My Very Own Moon

My Very Own Moon
by
Matt Zurbo

 

Imagine if I had my own moon…
(Kid in PJs in backyard, looking up at full moon.)

Doing laps around my head.
(Head and shoulders of Kid, 4ft quarter moon circling him. Moon has small, silver, lazy kid lying in it fishing.)
Full moon.
Half moon.
Quarter moon.

When there was no moon I’d lose my balance a lot. Bump into things in the dark.
(Kid reaching and falling in the dark. His moon hiding behind a trunk behind him.)

When it was full, I’d howl at it.
(Kid, howling with dingos and a clown at full moon above him.)
And dingos and crazy people would howl at me.

I would tell the best campfire stories.
(Kid by campfire, it’s warmth lighting his face, moon behind him as he tells very animated tale to (sitting) three kids and three mythical bush creatures.)

The human body is 80% liquid! My mood would give me tides.
(Kid, with moon, daytime, marching forward, icy-pole in hand.)
Twice a day I’d be full, happy, strong.

Twice a day my shores would be empty. I’d be hungry and exposed.
(Kid, moon now in front of him. His hands are out pleading to it  as he follows.)

If I had my own moon, I’d hang out at night with the girl who breathed stars.
(Girl surrounded by stars, boy with large, full moon, a bat or two flying about.)

Her voice would look like the Milky Way.
(Close up of girl, from side, mouth open, eyes closed, talking, Milky Way coming from her mouth. Kid and his moon to her side, watching.)

She would tell me how the universe formed,
(Girl talking, planets, suns, moons, around her. Kid, and moon, tilting back, avoiding being hit, mesmerised.)

and describe what there is after forever stops.
(We can just make out girl’s flowing hair, hand reaching up and across page, stars all around her peter out. By page’s other side there is just a void.)

I would be a house to myths and legends.
(Kid, standing, with moon orbiting him. He is surrounded by various moon gods from various cultures.)

Moon dragons would run through my hair!
(Dragons curling down from moon above kid, to wrap around kid, both dragon and kid looking in same direction, calmly.)

The man in the moon would always be whispering in my ear.
(Kid watching star girl as she plays with a flower, at night. Kid has moon above and behind him. Silvery man in moon is leaning down off it to whisper advice in kid’s ear.)
“Hold the star girl’s hand…”

If I had a moon orbiting my life, I’d climb onto it and swat all rockets from Earth away.

Then, I’d go to university classes and talk about its mystery and romance.
(Kid on podium with moon, holding hand out to introduce werewolf next to him, cat and fiddle waiting to the side. Teacher and students mesmerised.)

I would tell them, “Yes, it is made of cheese.”
(Kid talking to students, who are all leaning forward.)

Then explain how important and needed and a part of me it was.
(Close up of kid’s chest with a trapdoor in it. Door is open, moon is where heart should be.)

Then walk with it into the night
(Kid sitting on tree branch, writing, while amazing streaks of silver light come through tree’s branches.)
and write stories by its light.

Watch the ocean with it.
(Kid on shore, watching moon over water. Patches of glorious moonlight on dark ocean.)

Swim after dark.
(Kid swimming, moon above him, surrounded by bats and moths and stars.)

And have it whisper to me about all the things it has seen,
(Moon over dinosaurs.)

the hidden lives and places its light touched…
(Two fishermen in little fishing boat under moon.)

(Bats everywhere, lit by moon behind them.)

(Cyclops walking, lit by moonlight, behind it, a little girl, a mermaid in a bath, someone with a big backpack on their back, a man and his mandolin.)

while I slept.  
(Kid in bed, sleeping with moon just outside window)

I would talk with the man who had all 69 of Saturn’s moons orbiting him. I would probably learn a lot.
My one moon would do me fine, I think.

My moon and I would visit the boy who rides a giant trout.
(Kid sitting on jetty, with his moon orbiting him. In black, glassy water, another boy is happily riding a giant trout that is jumping out of the water to catch a firefly.)

The two of us would sometimes do battle with the Meanest Thoughts!
(Moon kid and trout kid back to back, surrounded by super tall and sinewy creepy pantomime creatures.)

He’d tell me what was on my moon’s dark side.
(Trout boy and moon kid standing either side of moon between them. Bright side facing moon kid, dark side facing Trout boy, who is looking jaw-dropped surprised.)

Watching my moon’s dark side would be weird. Nobody would see the same thing.
(Kid, standing with back to us, moon in front of him. Facing them is a line of; teacher, kids, Viking, dog, parents, looking at moon’s dark side, which we can’t see. Awe, laughter, anger, sadness – none with the same expression.)

The bullies would try and steel my moon, but forget that it rises every night.
(Kid looking up as bully, still hanging onto fishing net wrapped around high moon, dangles, frightened, in air.)

The boy who rides a giant trout would help us get it back.
(Kid on river bank watching boy on trout as trout leaps from eater to wallow moon.)

We’d dance with the girl who breathes stars.
(Suitable image of all three, with small camp fire and nothing but stars behind them. Moon, of course, orbiting boy.)

But, mostly, we’d just hang out.    
(Kid in hammock, moon above him.)

Yeah, imagine if…
(Same image as from start, real moon in air above garden, kid now gone.)

The End