The clouds coated the sky in mundane gray as I made my way to the lawn. Hordes of spectators spread across the slope waiting for the spectacle. Some blasted music; others played frisbee. Some carried on in conversation; others sat in silence. All hoped the clouds would soon clear so that all could behold the coming revelation of the heavens.

After several minutes of searching and weaving through the multitude, I staked a spot where I could place my lawn chair. Though its hinges were stiff from lack of use, I was soon seated amidst the anxious crowd. Many began to check the time on their phones, followed swiftly by a check of the weather. Would the clouds roll away in time?

The minutes ebbed away. Anxiety rose. Soon a hive-like discussion of the weather buzzed up and down the hillside.

A sigh of relief exhaled from the crowd as a fierce wind began to drive away the obstructing haze above. Soon all began to clap and cheer. The moon’s rim had just kissed that of the sun’s.

I too smiled. This lasted but for a moment. A scream escaped my throat from the place within that cages all the unthinkable terrors we dare not face. Ice shot down my spine as sweat swept like a tide over my skin. Yet, the crowd carried on its celebratory cheer.

What had aroused such fear in me was this: though the moon was adjacent to the sun in the sky, she was in her full face, every crater lit in full detail across her white surface. Everything we had been told, everything we had believed was horribly wrong. I trembled and questioned everything, not even trusting the words with which I questioned.

A man beside me, wearing a t-shirt and sunglasses, waved his beer bottle dismissively at me. “Would you quit your jabbering and just enjoy the spectacle?” as the crowd continued its celebratory cheer.