J is for Jishui
I’ve been floating around Omicron Geminorum for a year now. My oxygen is low but someone will be here soon to collect me, so I’m not too distressed yet. The time may come when I get so, but that time isn’t now. Besides the cold and the feeling of infinite distance, things aren’t really that bad. Things really aren’t that bad. When I woke up this morning from a sleep suspended, there was a feeling of water, fluid movement. The stars looked like they were in motion, in a dance that I couldn’t understand. But it’s all fine. The first glimmer of the orange sun ran through a gamut of hope and despair for all things – a familiar feeling that I term ‘home’. My attention was taken by a shooting star, an ephemeral bloom which lit up the worlds around me. I was happy to see it, and sad to see it go by so fleetingly. I wondered then if it was just meant for me – could I ascribe meaning to what I had just experienced, being the only person for many light years? Was there meaning in anything here, I wondered? As I mulled this over, a small asteroid hit my side and caused me to list, keeling into the atmosphere. Shocked from such an introspective space, I thought that this was the end – the moment I would use up my last gasp, but I regained my balance and returned to an even centre just in time to see the light falling on the earth, waking us all up down there and prompting us all to breathe. Everything is going fairly well. I am full of pride at our achievements. As I sink into reverie, I see two people coming towards me, dressed identically, supply tanks at their sides. I breathe a small sigh of relief – I shall be back on solid ground soon, although I can’t imagine what that feels like. They get closer and closer, but something is wrong, I can see it from here. Where have they come from? Why, now, is there a third one? I start to worry. This cannot and must not affect my breathing though, as my life will become even shorter. For a brief moment, there is a red blur around me and I feel comforted, safe and warm. Then there is nothing.
I’ve been floating around Omicron Geminorum for two years now. My oxygen is low, but someone will be here to collect me soon.