I am completely and utterly alone.
It’s dark and cold.
I long for human touch. Just to hold a hand, to feel the warmth of another’s skin.
My footsteps echo on the metal catwalk. It’s never silent here, a constant hum of the engines vibrating, mechanical and impersonal. The organic sounds of walking shatter the white noise.
I look out the small window. The view is still as beautiful to me today as it was three months ago when I awoke to it. I can never get used to the swirling colors and lights of the nebula. Beautiful or not, it’s still lonely.
In the beginning, I talked to myself, my imagination taking over and inventing someone to talk to, someone who could keep me company and hold me in the perpetual night. That voice eventually went quiet. Even he abandoned me.
I miss home. Earth is gone.
When the end came, it was decided to preserve our species by sending examples out into the universe. Victims were chosen and put in these spacecraft, each one made to carry a single sleeping body to the far reaches of the galaxy, then wake them in hopes their ship found a suitable new home.
My ship found a nebula. There is no one here but me.
My life support systems are failing.
I have no way of knowing if my fellow travelers found what we were looking for.
I might be the last.
I lie down and close my eyes. It will be my last sleep.
I try to remember what it was like to be with another.
It’s cold and dark.
I am completely and utterly alone.
It’s dark and cold.
I long for human touch. Just to hold a hand, to feel the warmth of another’s skin.
My footsteps echo on the metal catwalk. It’s never silent here, a constant hum of the engines vibrating, mechanical and impersonal. The organic sounds of walking shatter the white noise.
I look out the small window. The view is still as beautiful to me today as it was three months ago when I awoke to it. I can never get used to the swirling colors and lights of the nebula. Beautiful or not, it’s still lonely.
In the beginning, I talked to myself, my imagination taking over and inventing someone to talk to, someone who could keep me company and hold me in the perpetual night. That voice eventually went quiet. Even he abandoned me.
I miss home. Earth is gone.
When the end came, it was decided to preserve our species by sending examples out into the universe. Victims were chosen and put in these spacecraft, each one made to carry a single sleeping body to the far reaches of the galaxy, then wake them in hopes their ship found a suitable new home.
My ship found a nebula. There is no one here but me.
My life support systems are failing.
I have no way of knowing if my fellow travelers found what we were looking for.
I might be the last.
I lie down and close my eyes. It will be my last sleep.
I try to remember what it was like to be with another.
It’s cold and dark.
I am completely and utterly alone.
