The energy was flowing through me. I did not feel so tired and defeated anymore. It’s easy to feel that way. But I had perked up after a trip to the supermarket with my little girl and I was buzzing a bit. It was Saturday night, I was going to cook fajitas for the family. But! When I got home I realized I forgot the damn tortillas. Fool!

So I went back out into our new neighborhood on foot to see if I could find a corner store or bodega that sold them nearby. No such luck. But there was little burrito stand, Mission Burrito. I went in and announced I had a strange favor to ask. Could I buy some tortillas? I was making fajitas for the family tonight and forgot to buy them at the store. The man smiled and was gracious. Sure, he says. Big ones? Sure, big ones. Whatever you got. He goes in the back and gets 10 big ones, carefully wraps them in saran wrap and puts them neatly into a plastic bag before presenting them to me on the counter. Wonderful, I say. How much? Eh, he says. Four dollars. Here’s five I say, leaving a Lincoln on the counter and thanking him. You saved me! I say. He smiles and I split.

Walking home, that’s when I saw it: the TORTILLA MOON, full and round, hanging there in the sky. I held my own torillas up to it, and they were the same. I went home and cooked the fajitas and sat at the kitchen table with my wife and drank a beer and chatted about little things. Outside the screen door the quiet night twinkled with tiny city sounds, the distant siren, the sidewalk footsteps, the occasional whoosh of a car passing by.