In Which This Story Ends

“Mum?” I ask Mum as she tucks my covers under my body and places Willy next to my head.

“Yes, Rocket?” She asked, a kind motherly smile played across her lips as Paulie snored away in the bed across the room.

“Will you tell me a story?”

“I thought you said you were too old for stories.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Well, what kind of story do you want to hear?”

“A story about flying.”

Mum thought for a minute, she was an author so she always had great stories.

I waited patiently as the tiniest sparkle lit up in her eye and grew bigger, telling me she knew exactly how the story was to begin and end.

The middle was the adventure.


“Once upon a time, there was a small rocket.” She started quietly, laying down next to me on my small Toddler size bed.

She put her arm around me as she continued, “This rocket was the smallest rocket of all the other rockets. But he knew that being a small rocket had its advantages.

“He could fly faster, and fit into tighter spaces. And he could do fancy aerial tricks in the air.

“One day the small rocket had a trip planned. A trip to fly to Mars, a red uninhabited planet. He was scared at first, but with the help of his brother rockets he was on his way.

“When he got to Mars, he flew around the surface a few times, scoping the planet out to make sure it was safe to land, and when he did…”


I never heard the end of the story, as I fell asleep, but I’m sure it had a good ending.

I want to grow up to be an author, like my Mum, so I decided to write this down.

Maybe you liked it, maybe you laughed, maybe you cried, maybe you found meaning in it.

I don’t care, I just know that yesterday was a day I’ll never forget. Even when I’m 20.

The End

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