Lacking the willpower to save his own life he lets fatigue set in. From his shoulders to his biceps to the crook of the elbows to the palm of his hands and all of his ten fingers; his muscle fibers fail to contract. And at that moment he decides his own fate: to be sucked into the infinite vacuum of the cosmos.
His lifeline had been cut, it seemed like it had been hours ago, and he was clinging to the space station like a primate clings to its careless mother during the first few days of its life. It was pathetic he thought, as a hot tear ran down his face and his chest grew tight, and clear, slick snot streamed from his blunt nose as all he could do was grope this massive chunk of metal, helplessly.
His eyes stung from crying and he could feel the crusty, dryness the salt left on his face. Stuck on a forgotten space station, he felt even more defeated when unable to wipe his helmeted face clean of the nasal discharge caused by his dismal sobbing.
Suddenly his melancholy thoughts turned to anger. All of this; this moribund situation he was in, the reason he accepted this suicide mission in the first place, was all because of that one person that left such an indelible impression on him.
It wasn’t wrong…he kept telling himself…no matter what the others said. It felt too good to be wrong…He loved me…he loved me…and they deserved to die if they didn’t think he did! Yeah…ha ha ha…it wasn’t wrong at all…experimentation, what is that?! People don’t just experiment…
His mind rewound to that auspicious moment, that single moment in time, that everyone has, that will change your life forever depending on what choice you make, he philosophized.
The memory was distant and vivid at the same time, like looking at the moon through a telescope. He was 17, not a virgin and living contently with little restrictions from authority. It was warm that day and sunny too, the air smelled fresh, new. Winter was over and nature was embracing spring. Robins chirped and Stellar Jays screeched excitedly.
As the memory of this familiar spring rushed back to him, his body relaxed further, and a foot dangled into the black nothingness.
He remembers he was in his house, the house he had lived in for years, the house he had grown up in. He could still see it. Billions of miles, of light years away, he could feel it, taste it, smell it. But it wasn’t real, he wasn’t really there…it was just a memory.
He was in the kitchen that spring day. Why he wasn’t outside with his friends he couldn’t remember. But, he was inside where it was dark, where he was protected from the intense light of day, hidden from the curious eyes of his peers. The indoor air was stuffy and old when compared to the freshness of the sweet spring day. Yet he stayed in the kitchen.
As is the nature of memories, he doesn’t remember exactly how it happened, he just remembers it happening. One moment he was in the kitchen enjoying the solitude of the usually raucous house and the next he was willingly embraced in a way he had never been embraced by another man before, and he liked it.
He felt exhilarated as the strong, muscular arms took hold of him and aggressively pulled him towards his chest. The kisses the two shared were like none he had ever had with a woman. They were more…electric and insistent and filled with so much more emotion. He remembers running his fingers over his muscular chest, slowly, feeling every point of flexion from his legs seamlessly to his arms, feeling his solid pectorals, caressing the nipples until they stood erect.
Lost in this physical act of passion, he lost awareness of the outside world, he was one minded and cared or thought only of the magnificent sensation created by his partner’s organ and powerful thrusting combined.
Suddenly he awoke from his flashback and fell from the space station; he’d have at most a seven and a half hours, maybe eight, of complete solitude to reminisce before he died of suffocation, now.
……………to be continued
