SUPERMOON

I pulled on a jumper and a pair of jeans. The house was silent, save for the gently ticking clock in the dark corner of the living room and the low hum of the fridge.

I turned the key in the back door, and crept out into the garden. The grass was silver with dew and the air was refreshingly cold. Above, in the deep night sky, the Moon was bulging white, dazzling behind the wispy painted clouds that swirled around its halo. It was beautiful.

I was up to see the SuperMoon Eclipse. You heard about this, I guess - a number of people got it into their heads that for some reason the combination of a lunar eclipse and a perigee moon somehow meant the actual end of the world.

If it was all going to end, I wanted to be up, ready and waiting. I also wanted to see the Eclipse anyway, as it goes - because I like things like that. So I stood in the garden in the middle of the night, gazing up at the Moon as it slipped into the rusty circle of the Earth's shadow.

It didn't all end, obviously. At least, it hasn't yet. I woke up as normal, to the Monday morning alarm and the dawn filtering in through the curtains. If I had died and woken up in Heaven, it was remarkably similar to the world I'd left behind. That would be something of a disappointment, I thought to myself. I knew for sure though, moments later, when I stood on the upturned plug of my iPad charger.