It was long past her bed time but she just couldn’t sleep, she had to know the culprit of that bright glare coming through a gap in the velvet curtain. The little girl climbed clumsily on to the dressing table, knocking a tall bottle of hairspray and an expensive Italian perfume noisily to the floor. She peered sceptically down into the street below. It looked as though it was lit by a giant spot light, like a star performing on a stage. Her mother came in, wrapped her slender arms around the little girls tiny waist and whispered in to her ear.
‘That darling is a blue moon, they are both very rare and very special, just like you’. They are a spectacle for us all to behold, a tiny glimpse of magic that you can so easily miss if you forget to look up at the night sky, a glimpse of magic you should never be prepared to forgo. On the night of a blue moon anything is possible.’
These words remained with the little girl as she grew, she studied moon cycles and astrology, for the years to come, her fascination with blue moons continued. In adult years, she began a constant pursuit to predict when the next elusive occurrence could be. She had to know, she had to be ready for the bewitching possibilities that would rise with the moon.
She discovered that, on average a blue moon will only occur once every 2.7 years. That did not allow her days full of magic very often, but when they did come, she would be ready, waiting.
In the years that followed, despite her best efforts the blue moons seemed to come and go, bringing none of the foretold splendour. She would organise special dates, plan business meetings, interviews, fly to new places, save all the ‘firsts’ in her new relationship for the days of the infamous blue moon. And although every moon was beautiful beyond compare, although these days were amazing in their own right, they were never magic, nothing out of the ordinary ever seemed to pass. The woman felt her spirits dampen, maybe the magic wasn’t real after all?
Her husband began to feel impatient with her, with her constant preoccupation, and ideologies, with her living only for potential future dreams. She decided to accept then, that her mothers words had just been a silly story told to a naive little girl, that the magic of the moon was little more than a myth. She vowed to her husband from then to live in the present, to try her best to make each day more special.
A few years later the woman stood in her hospital gown, looking out of the window, her husband by her side. The night sky was illuminated by the most incandescent orb of light she had ever seen. The woman held her new born baby in her arms, her little face alive with the glow of the full moon. Her heart would be forever anchored in this moment.
‘What will we name her?’ The husband gently asked.
The woman didn’t have to think twice, the name was on the tip of her tongue. This baby was already the most exceptional, unique soul she’d ever known. She was going to be a moon that would rise every night, making each new day just as exceptional as the last.
Because maybe, just maybe, Once in a blue moon, magic does exist.
‘Her name is Luna.’
For Abi Buck
#flashfiction #onceinabluemoon #luna