Excerpt from Falling Moon

An oil tanker is idling in another line for all commercial vehicles, about four back. It looks normal, some Canadian oil company logo on the side. On closer inspection there is an outlet that doesn’t serve to let oil in or out. It is well concealed and easily missed. A compartment large enough for one or two people. Moonbaby is in there. She is wet, cold, and very tired. Her bones ached; it’s been days since she slept in a bed and she can’t remember a time when her whole body hurt. She was never the type to rough it; oh, her parents took them camping occasionally when she was a kid, but Moon never really liked that. No AC, bugs, and sand sticking to you everywhere. The only bathrooms had to be shared with God knows what type of people. She could shower but never seemed to get the sand out of all the cracks. It was not something she enjoyed. That is why this really sucked even more beside the fact that most of her money was gone and some nasty people wanted her dead.

The compartment is rank with a mixture of rust, oil, and old body odor. The smell came primarily from the rags that are the only padding on the floor. It’s rough and hard to breathe; she has a paper mask on, the kind you see the Chinese wearing in news reports out of Beijing. How did this ever happen? I'm not a bad person, I'm educated, I pay my taxes, never been in any trouble except maybe a speeding ticket or two. How is it I'm running from my own government? If it wasn't really happening it would be something out of a sci-fi novel or a movie like...what was that Condor movie? The Robert Redford one.

Moon would laugh if it weren’t all so surreal. If she could be in this place then anyone could. This happens to people no one ever hears about. But the government was out of control and coming after her. How is that? She was an attorney and respected jurist. Her family was in the entertainment business and Democrats to boot. We are not bad people, we fix the planet. We help the poor. I even volunteered and spent one Thanksgiving feeding the homeless. So how is it she is now a hunted criminal?

What little money she has left is in a backpack. When the shit hit the fan she’d had to go with what she could carry. She has a watch, well, a Rolex and that was kind of her ace in the hole. That last thing to give up for freedom if she has to.

Was it just weeks or even days since she’d been making her way in Hollywood. My problems started not that long ago she thought but she realized that it all began long before it got to her.

The country was supposed to be in a time of hope and change. Back during the previous administration, Congress voted in laws that were supposed to keep us safe. People really weren’t paying attention, not that many paid attention any other time, it’s just that we were losing more freedom. At the time, Moon thought that getting rid of one administration and trading for another would fix everything. But it didn’t. Things got worse, more and more regulations and rules created a freedom-reduced safety, curbing business and personal freedom.

Was this why she was stuck in this filthy place? Moon sat on the metal floor not really knowing how she was going to save herself much less get her life back to the way it used to be. She starts to nod off and thinks about a time when life was good and she was in ignorant bliss of the things going on.

About the Author

Michael Eddy lives with his wife Jane and cat Sunny-D he has three children Sam, Allie and Raymond. He was in business for twenty seven years and an owner of restaurants in Florida. " I had no idea what I was going to do after the world of restaurants. It was all I knew. Then one day while trying to write a self help book about complaining and how to help yourself, God gave me this story. I'm not sure to this day why, but I know I had to write it."

I am also a passionate Libertarian and I did not like the way this Country was going, spying on it's citizens. The Patriot Act the NSA and Homeland Security seemed to me to be looking too far into to many of it's own people.

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