writing

Fly Me to the Moon – Part One

The sound of a metal door echoed into the hollow room as it screeched open. A man dressed in cargo pants and a heavy over sweater walked in. His boots thudded against the hard floor. His light eyes scanned the room.

The light was dim, but just enough to make out the details. A sterile white table with plastic chairs set in the corner. A small kitchenette was recessed into the wall to his left.

To his right, a doorway led to the head. It was compact, definitely only room for one to clean up. He sighed heavily.

Before him laid a small bed, sized for barely one. No sheets, but the surface was smooth. He walked over to it and set his bag down. The bed gave slightly to the weight of his pack.

He touched the surface of the bed to find it oddly comforting. It wasn’t what he imagined for the sterility of the room. He looked at his wrist; old habits of keeping time on his arm followed him. Plenty of time to relax before he needed to report in.

He moved his bag over to the table and kicked off his boots. It was nice to let is toes be free. He crawled onto the bed and rolled onto his back. It was then that he saw it.

Looking up, a large sky dome allowed him to see the darkness of the night and the glimmering of strange lights above. He rested his head on one of his arms and looked over the millions of stars floating overhead.

Soon he drifted off to sleep.

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