(drabble: a piece of prose fiction consisting of exactly 100 words)
she slept like an angel in the preservation unit. like a crisp slice of bell pepper, protected from the elements. the white light illuminating her gave out before the end of the first decade, but the taps and pipes and vents and wires all stayed opened and connected and pumping.
the exterior shown in light of moons she passed. moons she never saw, would never see, in all of her wanderings through space. the escape pod twirled and gained velocity with every passing solar system. for 33 years she faded from the memory of her people. a martyr in silence.
she slept like an angel in the preservation unit. like a crisp slice of bell pepper, protected from the elements. the white light illuminating her gave out before the end of the first decade, but the taps and pipes and vents and wires all stayed opened and connected and pumping.
the exterior shown in light of moons she passed. moons she never saw, would never see, in all of her wanderings through space. the escape pod twirled and gained velocity with every passing solar system. for 33 years she faded from the memory of her people. a martyr in silence.
No comments:
Post a Comment