It’s just me, my one item, and an 85 million dollar spaceship on a one-way trip. I hope that I will be able to return, but I realize that what I’m doing has a very small chance that I’ll succeed and make it back. The percentage was so small the administration simply said, “You’ll never come back.”
It’s just me, my one item, and all the hopes and dreams of a dying planet. It’s not dead yet, but it soon will be if I don’t succeed with my mission. Why I volunteered to do this is beyond me now. I was perfectly happy with my mediocre desk job at the space agency. My girlfriend was fine. My dog was good. I had a simple routine to my day, my week. My life was a poster of proper planning and wise decision making.
What possessed me to get on a giant rocket and get hurdled towards the harbinger of Earth’s death?
I don’t know. But now I’m alone.
It’s just me, my one item, and a colossal meteor barreling down destruction on everything I’ve ever known.
I’m really hoping my one item can get me through this.