Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • Dad was dying, we all knew that.

    Time slowed down even as it speeded up, and everything we did became a sort of farewell, an alert waiting.

    About a week before he died, I took Mom and Dad for a ride. When he was young and healthy, it had been one of his favorite things to do, and sometimes we'd drive a hundred miles for ice cream (the best in the state) and then drive home. This day we took a back road to where the owl bid the devil good night and stopped there for supper.

    When we came out of the restaurant, it was night. The moon was high and full, a hunger moon.

    But as we drove home, the moon came closer and closer until it devoured the sky. Until it looked as though we'd drive off the edge of the earth and straight into the moon.

    Until no darkness was left, only patterns of light.

    It has been almost exactly 20 years since then. Never again have I seen a moon that large, that hungry.

    That bright.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.