Excerpt from "I'll buy you The Moon"
Most people would agree that there are limits to what you can own; owning other people is forbidden, at least in the modern world. But what about everything else? We can own the land, the minerals underground, as well as the sea (within a set number of miles of sovereign territory). But what about the sky? Or even the moon?
In a dystopic future, Mega Corp has covered the globe in a shell, blocking the entire view of the sky. In this world, two sisters share a simple dream - to see the moon in the night sky.
Exhausted, Hanna stumbled and tripped, slicing open her knee on the crumbling concrete sidewalk. She sat and examined her bloody knee, wincing when she saw the gash. After a sixteen hour shift at the local food processing corporation she could barely keep her eyes open, let alone walk a straight line. Was this a dream? A nightmare? She could scarcely tell. She wanted to wake up, to flee this...whatever it was. Hanna recalled a jagged fragment of a memory, a vignette of the perfect house. It was a single story bungalow with white wood siding, red trim around the windows and doors and a mailbox fashioned like a small red barn. She could even smell fresh bread baking, carried by a sweet and gentle breeze. Was that real?
She got her answer. The illusion was dispelled when a rough hand grabbed her shoulder. She looked up to see a disheveled old man in filthy clothes, minus a few teeth. His hand was gnarled like an old grey oak, knotted, crooked and dirty.
"Darlin, are you ok?" he asked sincerely. There was kindness in his voice, though that kindness was carried on warm, sour breath that nearly made Hanna gag. She breathed through her mouth to avoid further assault.
Hanna nodded, eyes closed, her arms clutched around her knees.
"You sure? That knee don't look too good."
"I'm fine, thank you though," she managed meekly.
"Ok, if you're sure. I'd feel mighty bad if somethin happened to ya." He walked off, mumbling to himself.
Hanna pulled her head to her knees and wept. Her frail body was wracked with tears and the realization that this wasn't a dream, this was real.
She cried until most of the tension was swept from her body. I guess that's what crying's for, she thought. Had to be good for something - most people she knew did lots of it.
Steadying herself on a rusted iron hand hand rail, she stood, brushed the dirt off her slacks and long black canvas raincoat, then resumed the hour long walk home.
