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Good evening, children.

It's Granny Maduff, ready with a story.

So make yourselves comfy, and I'll begin. Once upon a time, there lived a boy called Arthur.

He was just a wee little one, but he was good in his studies and well liked by his friends.

In the evenings, after supper, when he had finished all his schoolwork,

little Arthur was allowed 20 minutes outside with his telescope. And every evening, little

Arthur did the same thing. He watched the moon.

He looked at each crater.

Like a slice of cheese, his mother would say.

Cheese, he would say.

It couldn't be.

He studied each tiny white pool of water. Glass of milk more like, his father would say.

Arthur would laugh at this. Milk on the moon? Surely not. He outlined each shadow and shape.

The man on the moon, his brother would cry.

Could it be? Arthur wondered.

Could a man live on the moon?

He looked for this man each night, but it was always still.

...