…and I feel fine

I didn’t have to race for that final spaceship off the planet after all. There’s no jockeying for places to sit when you’re the only one left. But still, given the state of what was left of the planet, I figured a hustle was appropriate.

So, hustle I did, across the blasted landscape that smoked and blazed like something out of a Jerry Bruckheimer film. My brain was kind of numb from the chaos but I remembered, vaguely, where the docking bay had been before the whole place went ker-flooey. I stumbled over twisted metal and charred bits of things that didn’t bear investigating and finally found one remaining spaceship. I inspected it and to the best of my spaceship-knowing abilities it seemed to be sky-worthy.

Scrambling aboard, I pulled at levers and jabbed at buttons, hoping I wouldn’t blow myself up in the process, but the engine roared reassuringly to life. I raced back and forth on the flight deck, making sure the things that were supposed to be beeping were and that lights that weren’t supposed to be flashing weren’t. On one of my mad dashes, I came to a sudden halt at the sight of a pair of dusty black boots that were attached to a pair of skinny legs. I bent down cautiously, one hand reaching for a handy, nearby wrench. I peered under the console and was met by a pair of dark eyes. Unfortunately, those eyes were on the other end of a gun. The eyes, and the gun, unfolded to reveal a rather attractive, if rather filthy, young woman.

“I thought I was the only one left on this dump,” I said, laying down the wrench carefully.

She just motioned with the gun, so I moved. I find that’s usually the best option in cases like this.

“Do you know how to run this thing?” I tried again but all I got was an eye-roll and a snort.

She started manipulating the controls with a much surer hand than mine, so I let her have at it, leaning against the wall, trying to look nonchalant.

She gave a final twiddle to something and spun around in her chair to face me.

“Sit,” she ordered. So I did. Gun and all, y’know.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Not a clue. Just away from here,” was my response.

She sat in silence for a few minutes.

“I need a partner. You seem to be not particularly stupid. Shall we give it a shot?” she finally asked.

“Sounds good to me.” Given that my planet had pretty much just disintegrated, I wasn’t in a position to be too picky about my next means of employment.

As the ship took off, we shook on it.

Neither of us seemed to be the talkative type, which boded well for our future relationship. However, we couldn’t help but pause and stare at the hollow where the earth used to be.

Shaking myself out of my reverie, I said “C’mon, Slick. There’s plenty of sky left for us out there.”

For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Mediocre Wayne challenged me with “For the world is hollow and I have touched the sky” and I challenged Melissa R with “Get off the penguin. It’s time to go home.”

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