Above the backyard workshop, a round white moon hung in the sky.
Dalle slapped a metal sheet onto the workbench. “Tonight, I fly there!”
The wrench went clang-clang on the floor, and Dalle buzzed with big, brave plans.
Soon a small rocket stood on the bench while Dalle tightened the last bolts.
Dalle painted a bright door, packed a map, a snack tin, and a shiny home flag, then stopped when one wobbly leg tipped the rocket with a silly BONK.
Outside, the rocket waited in the yard under the moon, ready at last.
Dalle climbed in, pressed the launch button, and ROARED up into the night.
The ride bumped and jiggled. The snack tin popped open, and crackers floated past Dalle’s face like tiny moons.
Dalle grabbed the controls and kept going.
The moon rose large outside the window, all silver and still.
With a soft crunch, the rocket landed. Dalle stepped into silver dust and saw Earth glowing blue above the dark hills.
It was so quiet that even Dalle’s little footsteps sounded big.
Then Dalle planted the shiny home flag in the powdery ground.
At last, Dalle turned the rocket toward home.
Dalle swooped back through the night and landed beside the backyard workshop under the same white moon.
Cool grass brushed Dalle’s feet. Dalle looked up at the moon, then down at home, and gave the rocket one happy pat.
