Sometimes I see the moon high in the eastern sky, with plenty of daylight left in the day, and I think: 45 years ago, we were walking around up there. How bad-ass is that! Then I remember that it has been more than 40 years since we’ve been back. A kind of miniature battle takes place within me, an angel and devil duking it out to determine what matters more: that we haven’t been back, or that we got their in the first place.
For now, at least, the angel is winning.
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