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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Sci-fi · #2290462
An astronaut runs into trouble.
Death tapped on his shoulder yet again; as persistent as it was inevitable.

Still, he’d been able to keep it at bay far longer than circumstances would have dictated.

Floating silently, he watched as the sun rose over the horizon; a gold-plated face shield reflected the nearby lunar surface to an empty audience. To his left, he could see the debris field fan out as each newly liberated nut and bolt sought its permanent elliptical orbit around the moon.

Minutes earlier…

“Lunar Lander Nine. You are cleared for final decent to basin MC-109. Good luck and for God’s sake, if you find aliens, try to be nice.”

“Roger that Huston. That’s the plan.”

He smiled and thought, “Everyone has a plan until a micro-meteor enters the game.”

Time slowed at the moment of impact. Red lights and alarms clamored for his undivided attention. “Fix me! Fix me!” they shouted. Training kicked in as he calmly flipped switches, scrolled through inputs, and put out fires. Seconds later, he knew it was “game over” and still, he tried A, then B, and then C. Eventually, the options simply stopped coming.

He briefly considered staying with the ship until the end.

What’s the point of getting out?” he thought. Logically, it didn’t matter. He could die in an explosion or he could die floating in space, humming American Pie and watching the sunrise.

He chose the latter.

The sun now lit the ground on the “dark side of the moon.” He could see the huge alien artifact he’d been sent to investigate as a low oxygen alarm sounded.

“Drove my Chevy to the Levy…”

From all around him he heard, “But the levy was dry.”

The light from the artifact gently cradled him downward.

“I’ll try to be nice,” he thought, smiling.

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