In the night sky.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” he said as they walked back from the store, taking the shortcut through the cemetery.
“It’s a secret because, to this day, I’m not quite sure what I saw.
That one summer in the woods—I woke up in the middle of the night to take a piss and then I saw her.
In a clearing in the forest, illuminated by moonlight, a woman stepped out of the darkness between the trees. She lifted a hand to the back of her neck, brushed her hair aside, and pulled at something—her hand clenched into a fist.
She stretched one arm forward and, with the other, brought her fist to it and pulled back.
Her elbow raised, two fingers pinching an invisible string from a bow that didn’t exist. She aimed at the sky and let go.
Right where she pointed, a shooting star appeared and vanished into the night.
She turned, and I hid behind a tree.
Then, just as suddenly as she had appeared, she was gone.
I’ve never told anyone that before. I’m still not sure what it was—but there it is. A secret for a sandwich.”
