SF Drabble #97 “Major Tom”

He tumbles in space. There is still the faint glow from expanding gases, the remnant of the exploding ship, but otherwise the only thing he can see is the starfield rushing dizzyingly past.

He had no time to grab a backpack, so he has no jets to stop his spin. The suit radio is short range, and there is no one nearby to hear if he calls ‘mayday’. The telltale on his chest panel says he has two hours of air left, but if he vomits in his helmet due to motion sickness…

He is beginning to regret having ejected.

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