I spent last night in deep space. After centuries of poisoning our planet, the Earth had turned all food crops and wild food sources to poison. Most water sources were also too toxic to drink. The fever to get rid of the virus. After a mass starvation die-off of humanity, those of us who were left were given a fighting chance of survival on a ‘floating planet’ somewhere outside of the Milky Way as mankind continued its tireless search for another planet to inhabit and destroy. There was only so much room on the transport ship but rather than offering up space with a lottery system, it was a race to the finish line. I suppose the idea was only those who were fit or had a certain level of ingenue would make it to the transport ship in time. Survival of the fittest.
I made it through the gauntlet and before I knew it (Scooby doo fade out-fade in), I was in newcomer holding on the space station. I had been separated from my people and I spent the rest of the night wondering how all of us fucked up people made the cut. Me with my ism’s, MC with his exploding heart, Mom with her aneurysm, Dad with his…attitude. It didn’t make any sense.
A disgruntled resident took it upon himself to blow up a major airlock and depressurize one of three zones in its entirety (think of them as space station towns, each completely self-sustainable). I think it was Jack Nicholson. Creepy motherfucker. This is why a mass exodus is a bad idea without thoroughly screening those who would be given a ticket to live out their lives with the hope of finding a new permanent home. Nevermind the ethics of it, this is survival.
My suggestion to the engineers of fate: don’t allow us virulent humans to outsmart you. We probably deserve to go extinct.
/I’d rather be stuck floating in space than stuck floating in Harpyville. At least the dreams are fun.
All images yoinked from google search