P is for Percy Freebottom

Excerpt from my debut novel Out of the Great Black Nothing, for the April A-Z Challenge.

I will post excerpts from various writings daily.

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William Percival "Percy" Freebottom lay on his rooftop, a tin roof same as the barn, same as the shed, same as all the other rooftops he could see from here, except the tin roof on the house was flat between the raised ridges rather than pringle-shaped like the others. Percy wedged himself into the flat part of the tin roof and looked up at the stars spinning and tried to feel the motion of the Earth beneath him. He sensed the pull of the moon and his blood flowed and ebbed as if with the tide.

Percy couldn't see the moon, not directly, since tonight was a new moon, but he could feel it, and he could see where it blacked out the stars like an eye-patch constellation. "There you are," he said to the moon. He held his hand out and pinched the darkness between his thumb and forefinger. The thick fingers of his gloves pressed together, inaudible through the reinforced glass of his helmet. Like the moon, he sensed more than felt or heard his fingers come together.

Percy adjusted his position and maneuvered onto his side. The hip reinforcement along the back of the spacesuit irritated the lower part of his spine if he pressed his body against it too long. He relieved the pressure by turning slightly onto his right shoulder, enough that the suit was off-center, but he could still see skyward if he cocked his head to the left. He crossed his legs and lay half-corkscrewed and tried to concentrate on the missing moon.

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Eric W. Trant is a published author of several short stories and the novel Out of the Great Black Nothing. He is currently represented by Debrin Case at Open Heart Publishing. See more of Eric's work here: Publications