That night brought a shared dream. Or was it a dream? They never really knew. But they were outdoors looking up at the sky. Strangely a piece of twentieth century music was playing in the background, a song about sleeping underneath the moon.
They stared at a night sky filled with stars. On the horizon lay a pale pumpkin-colored orb of seemingly great size. This moon should have diminished in size as it rose into the sky to grow brighter. But it did not. It grew larger and larger and brighter and brighter until it enveloped them.
They were blinded by brilliant light reflecting off a smooth expanse extending to a near horizon. They closed their helmet sunshades and looked behind them at Joseph’s PSV with raised canopy.
A streak of yellow seemed to stream from a crater wall. It flowed and widened until it churned the lunar dust into a gray and amber swirl. This yellow river flowed to the near horizon, but it did not drop beneath it. It continued to flow into the space above and onward into the cosmos.
They opened their sunshades to better see the mystery they were witnessing. This dream, it seems, was a special place for them. And it was personal.
- Personal Space, by William David Hannah