The Moon
By Allen Forrest
Word count: 238
It happens like an unsettling feeling that creeps over me.
Crawls into my mood and stays there.
After a while I stop and take stock.
What the hell’s going on?!
Why am I so fearful, paranoid, and leery of things?
Why indeed?
The moon.
A full one.
I look at the calendar—there it is!
A little innocent circle on the day in question.
Innocent my foot!
Not this month!
Not for this guy!
Most of ‘em go by and I don’t even notice.
But every once and a while—boom!
There’s a really powerful one.
And all bets are off.
All red flags are flying.
And I am one paranoid SOB.
I have to keep reminding myself—it’s only the moon—chill out.
Take it easy buddy boy.
But that does little good.
The heartbeat, the blood in my veins is pumping
and peculating with a nervous cadence. A surge of—
“What’s about to fall on top of me?!”
“What’s waiting around the next bend?!”
The moon.
I’ve been told police departments brace themselves for a full one.
Crazy shit happens.
People do really weird stuff.
You don’t need Lon Chaney Jr. howling at that big bright orb in the night sky.
‘Cause there’s plenty of other hairy characters to fill in and go on a rampage.
Don’t know what I’m talking about?
Never happened to you?
Well never say never my friend.
Especially to—the moon.