David Baddiel - Birthday Boy

All white and shining and pockmarked, like Grandpa Sam’s face (although that was only the pockmarked bit, as Grandpa Sam’s face was sort of leathery and brown, and, though friendly, very rarely shining).

“I can see the moon, Spock!” he said to Spock, who was now on the floor, by his cage. Spock looked back at him with quite a strong sense of, “When you can see a planet made of parsley, let me know. Meanwhile, open my house, please.”

When Sam turned back to the telescope, though, he couldn’t see the moon through it any more. This was a thing about telescopes: even small eye movements meant that you could end up a long way from what you’d been looking at before. He scanned right, left, up and down, but couldn’t see where the moon had gone – and then—

What was that ? A spaceship? It was black, and oblong, and had a series of enormous flickering green numbers on the front of it …

… Oh. It was his clock. Made to look much bigger and more spaceship-ey because he was seeing it through the telescope. He’d turned the thing all the way round, away from the window, and was looking back towards his bed.

Feeling a little silly, Sam began to move the telescope back round again. But not before noticing that the time was about to turn – the 59 of 11:59 had been there for a while – to midnight. And then his birthday really would be properly over. He sighed, shook his head and looked through the lenspiece for one last sight of the stars.

And then he saw it.

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