The Glass Midnight

By: Natalie Foertmeyer

7^th Grade- Winton Woods Middle School

Writing Team Coach- Ms. Kathleen Barger

Best of the Best for Winton Woods District Tournament,

February 1, 2003

Awarded at: Sycamore Jr. High Regional Tournament, March 22, 2003

It was dusk. The fiery sun was descending from the sky and the pale moon was taking its place. One by one, stars appeared like pin pricks in a vast piece of blue velvet. It was under this sky that Melody sat, listening to the sounds of the young night. Her little brother was inside, playing with his Tonka trucks before his bath. Melody felt free. Unchained from any sense of duty, there was nothing to keep her down. She ran through the fields behind her country home, delighting in the glories of the night. She stopped by the pond. Tonight was balmy and humid and sleeping inside would only make it worse. She spread out on the grass and set her watch to go off at 11:59 p.m. Then, she fell into dreams.

A metallic beeping woke Melody a few hours later in the dead of night. She sat up straight and began to peel off the sweaty clothes that hid her bathing suit. Her watch announced midnight and Melody waited. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster, silver sneaked into the clearing. Finally, the entire field was bathed in moonlight. Melody gazed at the pond. The moon was reflected in the surface of the water. Large and glowing, the full moon transformed the ordinary pond into liquid glass. There it was; glass midnight. She watched it for a moment and then splashed in. The water wasn’t deep; it came only to Melody’s waist. She threw handfuls of water into the night air and let the silver water bead in her hair. The moonlight made her skin glow white. Sometimes Melody thought that if she stayed long enough, she could catch the moon and keep it in her room. Now that she was older, she knew it was silly but she always dreamed to keep the moon close to her.

Years later, Melody remembered glass midnight. She remembered playing in the water and wishing she could keep the moon. Now, she could get as close as she ever would. A voice cracked over the intercom, “Midnight, this is Houston, prepare for lunar landing.” Melody locked her helmet on and signaled to her partner. She was ready.

Back at home, a few weeks later, Melody was getting ready for bed. She looked out of the window at the waning moon and touched the small vial on her bedside table. She got in bed and the last thing she saw as she faded into dream, was the jar of moondust from her lunar landing. She had kept the moon.