Earthrise
The shaking was gentle at first, then my father pushed harder against my shoulder.
“You’ve got to get up!”
“But it’s night.”
“Get up, or you’ll miss it,” urged Dad, now nudging my brother awake.
I was eight years old and though it was only four in the morning, Dad carried us up to the attic to watch a comet cross the sky above the breaking dawn. My brother leaned against me, half asleep; a gentle dribble of saliva from his open mouth ran down my arm.
“There it goes - see?” My father pointed out of the open window.
“Yes! I can see! John - wake up!” I nudged my brother awake and we three watched as
