Full Moon

     Last night I sat behind my dad on the seat of his old Honda motorcycle, and we cruised the streets. As I didn't have a helmet, we didn't go fast or far, just around the adjoining neighborhood. I oohed and ahhed softly as we puttered past row after row of beautiful 1960's homes, with front and center living rooms lit proudly. The manicured lawns and fenced flower beds glowed with incandescent outdoor lighting. That lovely stillness of the night settled in, and the motor purred right along. 

     Then something odd stood out to me. Each house we passed was unique and sprawling and handsome, yet nearly every one had an unfortunate thing in common: at least one room, as far as my snooping eyes could tell, glowed with blue, electronic light. Quite a few of the glowing rooms were empty, save for a demanding television which flashed red, then green, now blue. I could see one or two people in others, their faces radiating LED light. 

I felt horribly lonely all of a sudden. 

     We rounded a cul-de-sac. As we circled around and the bike straightened up, I saw ahead of me a family standing in their yard. Mom, dad, and teenage daughter stood close together, in their pajamas, gazing with shiny eyes and open mouths at the moon. Grinning, I turned and looked. There was a full moon.  

    I snuggled down behind my dad as we rode into the early autumn air, past the picturesque and hollow houses, with the moon smiling down from above. It glowed a pure, soft blue. 

And I felt just fine.  

**Also it sounds like I was hard-core snooping, but 60's homes have extensive front windows, plus people don't seem to be keen on curtains, so, I mean...