My Craft

Close Enough to Touch

A bead of sweat fell off his forehead onto the inside of the glass face shield as he reached for the red button. He pressed it. A whoosh of air bounced him toward the open airlock and blew him out in the vacuum of space. Then silence as he drifted out and away from the space ship. Strips of glass and debris flew away from the station as pieces of the asteroid broke it apart.

And then he was flying into nothing. He checked the regulator on his suit. Less than 17 minutes of breathable air. He moved his hand to wipe away the sweat. It was no use. He forgot he couldn’t touch his forehead.

The nothing enveloped him as he floated farther away from the destruction. The light of stars and the moon grew brighter in the dark.

Earth filled a mirror attached to his sleeve. A rocket spun him around to look at the blue marble in space.

He stared at the oceans until the alarm went off on his respirator. He took a quick gasp and reached. Home was close enough to touch.

© 2018, Michael Shawn Sommermeyer. All rights reserved.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.