Chronicals of a space man · short story

Chronicles of a Space Man; Part Two.

The ship keeps rocking. I keep counting the rocks; one,two, one,two,one,two. We don’t know why the ship keeps doing that.

Okay, maybe it’s space monsters? Or it’s my imagination. No one else seems to notice. One of my two crew members loves the other one so he is quite distracted. That maybe why he doesn’t get dizzy. You can’t get dizzy if you are already dizzy.His name is Oz.

Sharon just misses her little sister.

Some of the functions aren’t working on the ship. I don’t know what they are or what they did when they worked but a substantial amount of blinking lights went out. I don’t even know why they sent me here anyway; I don’t know the first damn thing about space travel.

I was born twenty-eight years, twenty-three hours, twenty-eight days and fifteen minutes ago. Oz just came up beside me and poked at some buttons. I don’t think he knows what he is doing either. Sharon came and sat down beside me ,so Oz sat down too.

“Can you check for the last of the food?” Sharon asked me. She scratched her jaw with nails that we bloody from being bitten.

“Yeah,” I replied and headed to the back of the ship. That’s where we stored all the crappy freeze dried food. It’s been about twenty-four hours since we last ate. We have only one box of food left. I walk to the lonely box in the middle of the even lonelier room. After staring at it for a good two minutes, I picked it up.

It seemed heavier than the others. Maybe that was just because of my weakening body from malnutrition or that this was the last of our life.

I almost missed the fat envelope that was behind the box. It was literally bursting at the seams. I could see paper sticking out of the corners. Too bad it wasn’t food. I picked it up anyway.

As soon as I did pick it up the envelope fell to pieces and all it’s contents fell to the ground. I let out a groan as I leaned to pick all the papers up.With to many things in my hands, I shoved the papers in my pockets.

I sat the last box of freeze dried crap on the dining room table. The table had a broken leg so it wobbled when I did so. It was a strange place to put a table anyway. The monitors and controls were no more than three feet away. Sharon and Oz were somewhere else; maybe sleeping.

I just realized that I was born twenty-eight years, twenty-three hours, twenty eight days and Twenty-five minutes ago. I haven’t thought about time in ten minutes. That’s the longest I have gone with timeless thoughts.

The papers in my  pocket were making obnoxious sounds so I took them out. The page said “page 1” in the corner drew my eyes. It was handwritten (which you don’t see that often anymore) and at the top it read “YOU WILL NOT DIE”.


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