These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. I try to do them in 101 words. M’s prompt was ‘A Touch of Perfect’.
Every day Cal would wake and think that today would be his last. Today, he was right.
With his engines offline he tumbled through space at 30000 miles an hour towards his inevitable destination. He stabbed at the lifeless console hoping to gain control of the ship but it remained unresponsive save for the blink of the life support system.
Peering out of the starboard portal the moon swung slowly and ominously into sight, and just beyond her horizon he saw the Earth he’d left behind and would now never return to.
He then smiled and sat back in his chair. waiting…