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Weekly Contest #67
It's Day 893. I wake up in my cold, silent shell and wait. I listen, my ears focusing in on the low hum of my ship. The day this engine runs out of fuel is the day I die. I've been out here for eight hundred and ninety three days. I'm not sure where Here is, if I'm being honest. Everything was such a mess when we left, I can hardly remember the day. I'm not sure how long I was out there, just drifting through space. Eventually I passed something big enough to have a gravitational pull and next thing you know I'm on this planet. So here I ...
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