Iceland – Regard the Moon!

This short story was for a writing contest in 2016. 

Many authors have drawn parallels between Iceland and the moon. Here’s mine:


From high above, the wrinkled rugged texture of the ground suggested we were landing on another planet—stark and barren like the moon. “This is the Captain speaking. Please fasten your seat belts. We are about to land shortly,” the husky voice, of a man in his thirties, blasted through the intercom. Soon, it would be my first step on the moon, or rather, my first drive across the moon. Since man’s first step on the moon in 1969, men had made further breakthroughs to travel through the narrow way, building highway across the wide expanse of the crater and cars that defied gravity. We unwound the car’s window and exposed our bodies freely to the moon dust, just so we could get a good view of the rocky terrain. The volcanic geology was made more beautiful without the tinted windows.

“We’re here,” our scrawny driver announced in a bored tone. I was mildly annoyed at his indifference to this exciting moment. We were brimming with expectations as we dipped our feet into the black volcanic sand and entered into a misty and surreal realm. The whole place was brightly lighted up by the sunlight that hit and reflected off its surface. More so, icebergs scattered across the black beach glowed in the sun. I looked upon it and imagined a clumsy giant dropping his glass cup into the blackness and breaking it into the many pieces. No one bothered to clean it up and left the broken pieces as an art installation for us.

I was poking the grainy black sand with my feet, intrigued by the pure blackness of it for a long time, when the chattering of other men in the group quietened down into a solemn silence. My head snapped up and I took a sharp breath. The beautiful elegance had emerged from behind the mountain. So majestic, we unanimously stood in awe.

Moments past before reality sink in and gasps of astonishment broke out all around. Many scurried to dig out their smartphones and cameras from their pockets and bags to capture the breath-taking landscape. I stretched out my hand and opened up my palm to cover it, failing which, I traced the contours with my puny index finger. The uneven skin tone which a lady agonised over was surprisingly an artful texture that gave it exquisite beauty.

Here, on this side of the planet, we were on a make-belief moon to have a foretaste of what it would be like on that red-orange moon displayed before us. The full moon became like blood, as was written in the Bible. The sign before Jesus was prophesised to return, the earthly world to come to an end. But witnessing such a magnificent display, I had no more regrets left to mourn, no more unfulfilled dreams to pursue.