Writing prompt for our 3.8.13 meeting: http://writingprompts.tumblr.com/image/41756205331
The helmet on my head is heavy, but I can hardly feel it -- or anything, that for that matter. It feels as if my whole body has gone completely numb, and I am alone, alone on this bench, alone in my mind, alone on this planet.
The words the woman had spoken still reverberated around my head, even though it had been hours since I had talked with her and the committee. She hadn't been very pretty, whith her stiff, straw-like brown hair rolled up in a bun and her midnight-black glasses perched precariously on the edge of her nose.
She had been holding a clipboard, and tapping her pencil against it, so little clicking noises had filled the air.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Barton," she had said, staring at me with narrowed, dark brown eyes. "As much as we appreciate your -- erm... enthusiasm on the matter, you have not qualified to be an astronaut on Mission 1.07V6 to the moon."
I had said nothing, politely nodded, and exited the room as chills of horror swept throughout my whole body.
My entire childhood... gone.
Memories flashed through my mind -- me as a five year old boy, dancing throughout the house in my Halloween astronaut costume. Me as a twelve year old, steadily watching every documentary I could about space, astronatus, spaceships, anything. Posters of these subjects lined my bedroom.
One day, as an 18 year old, I had received a letter telling I had qualified for examination of Exploration 1.07V6. I had been so excited I had even garbed in an astronaut suit to wow the judges. And now, here I was on this bench, my head low, my spirits sinking.
My childhood: gone.
My dream: gone.
I place my face in my hands and sigh.
Posted by T.W.I.N.E.