Stories Of The Han

“La Luna!,” exclaimed Manuel as he pointed to the sky, his other hand clutching a heavy trash bag. I looked upwards, brushing the sweat off my brow as I narrowed my eyes, focusing on the night sky. Scattered throughout that swath of dark blue were a trail of stars, glistening ever so bright. A swift breeze ushered its way through the alley, the gutter trail reflecting the moon. “Si señor,” I said as I managed a cigarette between my lips, Manuel came over and lit it with his lighter then proceeded to light his own. We stood there quietly, a pair of beings looking up staring at that moon, its color yellow then pale. It seemed to goad me, then befriend me. I exhaled a large plumage of smoke and studied the constellation. I recognized that belt, those three bright stars, the three kings, the three sisters: Alnitak, Alnilam and Mintaka. Orion’s Belt. I stared at that sky, maybe a bit too hard. I wondered how many men, how many women have stared at Orion. What lives did these people lead, at what moment compe