Sunday, November 6, 2011

Half Astronaut

The ground beneath him was scorched by the fires of the rocket which propelled him upward to the heavens. For years, it was just a dream in his head. It was a dream that permeated his very being. He had floated through life, adrift on his thoughts of being a spaceman. No one could touch him, and their sounds didn’t travel to his ears. He was already there. Then, one day, he awoke.

He was driven by unholy forces. His hands had drawn the plans before he could fully comprehend them. His legs had taken him to places he’d never heard of just to get as high as he wanted to be. He had gathered so much, assorted pipes and materials, but most of it was used in trial combustion, and so he scraped the very bottom to get more. It was all he wanted in the world.

As the earth departed from him, he took no notice. He saw the endlessness of his goal, and he embraced it with open arms. He didn’t care what came after; the mess that he had left. He didn’t care about the people on the ground. His rocketship was like a fiery dragon, soaring through the blinding, deafening sky. He felt nothing but elation.

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