One Small Step for Boon
Microfiction: Singaporean Detective Noir
July 20th marked man's first walk on the moon--one small step that changed humankind forever.
A piece of moon rock comes to Singapore--and goes missing.
It's up to our Detective Boon to find it--with heart.
π΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈπ
Everyone crowded around Apollo 11: Legacy of the Moon at the Singapore Expo--it seemed like the only exhibit worth noting.
Perhaps it was.
Expo Hall 6 was indistinguishable from the rest--grey tiles, white walls, and air conditioning set to glacial temperatures.
So it was funny how people looked at moon rock under glass--as though it would bolt.
The moon had been successfully trapped in a fishbowl.
Even Boon.
Stoic.
Singaporean.
Human.
He leaned in once--pretending it was for safety.
That shouldn't have been unusual. But it was because--the case was empty.
Vacant. Where a piece of history should have been.
Someone, presumably the intrepid thief, had laid claim to the rock--it had disappeared as if memory had slipped it in the wrong file.
π΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈπ
The hall had been fitted with the latest in CCTV equipment--Singaporean perfectionism.
No help.
No camera star.
But there WAS a single footprint.
Clear.
Striking against the light grey cement.
With accidental characteristics that were an investigator's gem.
Reversed, as if walking out of the hall.
Boon began his stoic interviews of the exhibit staff.
"Zhan lan guan zhi hou, you kan dao ren he ren ma ( Did you see anyone after the exhibit closed)?" He queried a cleaner, whose eyes darted about as if fleeing from Changi Prison's solitary wing.
"Mei kan dao, bu guan wo de shi! (I didn't see anything! It's not my business!)" She turned away from Boon faster than Kitt on Knight Rider.
Then, a tentative tap on his shoulder.
He whirled around. It was the exhibit's manager. She shifted from foot to foot faster than Jackson's moonwalk.
"Dr. Teo, our geologist. He's missing."She swallowed. Too loud. Too anxious. She fingered her pendant, almost twisting it off.
It wasn't every day that one spoke to an investigator.
Boon shook his head, then reached for what the manager held out to him.
A cryptic memo.
Dr Teo's handwriting.
"We stopped walking when we stopped wondering."
The thief hadn't just dodged lasers--he ignored them like rules meant for small thinkers.
π΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈπ
Which left the typically unflappable Boon scratching his head.
He sat, chewing the same curry puff bite like an unsolved clue.
Over.
And over.
He reviewed the Expo's security footage--again.
And again.
Then, a second moon landing.
Boon's, not Neil's.
The detective realised that the footprint was--
reversed.
The thief had entered the hall.
Not left.
He re-read Dr. Teo's intruiging note, digesting each word as if he was savouring kaya.
"We stopped walking when we stopped wondering."
Then, Boon's third Moonwalk.
"Zhi dao le ( I know). He banged the table.
The note wasn't metaphorical.
Teo hadn't stolen the lunar rock. He'd surrendered--to wonder.
He had followed it.
Where would one find great sources of power?
The Expo's restricted power room.
He stepped into it and tensed.
A pulse.
Something.
Alive.
Awake.
The rock.
It wasn't just a rock-- it was a homing beacon. A compass. Coming back for what?
Its kind.
π΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈπ
The rock's pulse was too strong. Too regular.
Boon sensed--and respected--its sentience.
Like Dr. Teo.
The rock had the right--
To watch.
For its own.
He decided not to report any theft or disappearance.
A few weeks later, the rock had moonwalked--to become part of a science exhibit in the primary school where Boon had studied, Khaji Primary.
It was now accessible, not watchful.
The detective watched as curious parents and children asked questions.
"What happened on Apollo 11?"
"Is this the actual rock Neil Armstrong brought back with him? Can't be. It's just a rock!"
Boon smiled to himself, quietly sipping his Kopi.
One small step for Boon.
A quiet truth.
Sometimes, small steps are the ones that return us to ourselves.
π΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈππ΅οΈββοΈπ
Original video by Michelle Liew. AI tags are coincidental.
For Mikeydred's July prompt:
About the Creator
Michelle Liew Tsui-Lin
Hi, i am an English Language teacher cum freelance writer with a taste for pets, prose and poetry. When I'm not writing my heart out, I'm playing with my three dogs, Zorra, Cloudy and Snowball.
Comments (5)
Oooo, that moon rock is sentient. So intriguing. Loved your story!
One step on the moon leading to a piece going missing. In Singapore at that? I am intrigued. Boon the stoic and investigator. What an interesting character he is. But I love the way you described the manager and the cleaner, they both seem to be hiding something, if not just their anxiety. Though I know I am being terribly misled, as wouldβve been the same for Boon. The switch from funny to philosophical was a nice touch. Curry puff bites, a favourite in Singapore? AHH the ending was enlightening. It's quite powerful how the rock went from pulsing, to being too strong. Then becoming accessible and no longer watchful. An imagery of many angles. What you've said is true, 'sometimes small steps are the ones that return us to ourselves'. I quite enjoyed this read, filled with the love of Singapore, history and science. Of course humour and philosophy. Well done, I was entertained all the way through. β€οΈ
Intriguing! Love that line on a memory being slipped into the wrong file
Love the noir detective and artfully done.
One Small Step for Boon , love it and thank you for anther challenge entry