Frank Cottrell Boyce

We walked on the moon. We made footprints somewhere no one else had ever made footprints, and unless someone comes and rubs them out, those footprints will be there forever because there__ no wind.

Oh. My. God._ she said, pointing out of the window. __o you know what that is?__ nodded and said, __ think I may have seen it before.___hat,_ said Florida, __s the Moonyouidiot.

Personally, I think, so what? Money's just a thing and things change. That's what I've found. One minute something's really there, right next to you, and you can cuddle up to it. The next it just melts away, like a Hershey's kiss.

There are more stars than there are people. Billions, Alan had said, and millions of them might have planets just as good as ours. Ever since I can remember, I__e felt too big. But now I felt small. Too small. Too small to count. Every star is massive, but there are so many of them. How could anyone care about one star when there were so many spare? And what if stars were small? What if all the stars were just pixels? And earth was less than a pixel? What does that make us? And what does that make me? Not even dust. I felt tiny. For the first time in my life I felt too small.

And in that moment, I felt my own ignorance spread suddenly out behind me like a pair of wings, and every single thing I didn__ know was a feather on those wings. I could feel them tugging at the air, restless to be airborne.