Hounding Manny
By Mark A. Rayner
I’m up way past my bedtime, but it’s no fun. Since Dad and I got to the moon, I haven’t been sleeping so much. I keep having the same dream. The one where Mom gets all eaten by the nanites, Dad’s experimental bugs that everyone likes but me.
And then there are the other bad dreams that really aren’t dreams at all. In one the mean kids – the Trongs – all chase me and beat me up, and then I kind of shift back to the really bad dream, where the bugs are eating me. When I finally get to sleep, that’s usually when I hear Dad yelling out, and he wakes me up, and I lie there in the dark, listening to the sounds of the air pumps, the hum of machines, and I just have this terrible feeling inside that the morning is going to come, and then I’ll have to go to school, until finally, my eyelids feel so heavy.
The lights come on slowly, like a winter dawn back in Metoronto. I hear Dad up, and making breakfast, and I get up, because he hates it when he has to make me get ready for school.
I hate Luna One. It was supposed to be fun, but I hate it. And I can’t get Dad to understand. “Isn’t it time for school?” he asks me, as he tries to get his bloodshot eyes to read the morning newsplass. He doesn’t notice that I’m not wearing my special suit. I hate that too.
Read the rest of this story…>
Comments are closed.