The prompt over at Sunday Scrbblings wasn’t very fun. It wasn’t doing anything for me.
Hence, another OneWord.
And that word is “ship.”
Sixty seconds and go…
He let his hands skim the hardened graphite pieces, impossibly white still, despite the time. It’s like he’d forgotten what it was like to touch and he was reliving the sensation for the very first time.
Years in stasis. Too many. The ship had drifted past through several systems, so the computer’s star charts were worthless.
He wiped a hand across the computer touch screen, making sure – again – that the other pods were not functional.
And fingered his self-destruct key around his neck, like an eerie talisman.