Friday, 22 June 2018

Airlock Chances

I managed to breathe out right as the airlock dumped me into space, so I was able to see the ship bend reality and vanish to a point several light years away.

I spent what I assumed was my last twenty or so seconds of conciousness before another hundred of mere existence, cursing the bitches who had betrayed me and tried, desperately, to curse them, since there was no way I could be saved, the odds of another ship appearing were astronomical.

But the odds of me thinking the right combination of curse words to become a ghost? Slightly lower.

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