I sat on the bench in my back garden tonight. The sky was clear for the first time in ages and as I lifted my glass of wine, I saw it, a perfect full moon. It’s there every month, but for some reason, I only ever notice it every once in a while. The last one I saw was in London a few months ago. I stood on the bank of the Thames and looked out over the water, a glass of champagne in my hand. From my vantage point, I could see some light, but not its source. After a moment, a thin sliver of light peeked across the London skyline. As the minutes passed, it crept into view, until the sky was drenched in brightness. The moon, huge and perfect reminded me of the sky over the desert back home. I used to hop into my car, sleek, fast, red, and totally inappropriate for a girl of sixteen years. With the windows down and the stereo as high as the speakers could take it, I put my foot down and followed the moonlight. It was a great, peaceful way to think.
When was the last time you saw a perfect moon? What were you doing, who were you with, what did you see, where were you, how did you feel?
Writing Prompt: Perfect Moon