A.N. This is very short, but anyway. Last night, Neil Armstrong died. It may mean nothing to you, although I doubt it. This is a little tribute to him. Everything in italics, except from this note, are quotes from the man himself, joined together by America's reflections on space missions in general. The last is possibly my favourite ever quote. Unbetaed, and un-editied. I have been quite busy today...

Please forgive my American; I'm English.

'I believe that the Good Lord gave us a finite number of heartbeats and I'm damned if I'm going to use up mine running up and down a street.'

America sat upon the grass, facing out towards a lake. Neil Armstrong was dead. His heartbeats, as once so elegantly put by the man himself, were up. He was not young, no, but so much younger than the nation himself.

Space missions, America thought, had always been his pride. Even now with cut funding, they would be his dream. Looking out at the sky as a small child, he remembers dreaming of touching them – being with them. Maybe that was what the man had dreamed of, too?

'Mystery creates wonder, and wonder is the basis of man's desire to understand.'

America remembers his successful missions – he remembers getting to space, the weightless feeling. He remembers every triumph; the photos of his astronauts can be found in his travel-card holder. He remembers every time someone's breath was taken away by one of the photographs looking back at the earth, or out to the skies. The dreams of thousands were bought together in the moment man touched the moon, and thousands more dreams created.

He remembers when man first stood on the moon (beat that, Russia).

'Science has not yet mastered prophecy. We predict too much for the next year and yet far too little for the next 10.'

The disasters he remembers, too – Challenger which burnt up on entry, Columbia on re-entry… In his pocket, he always carries a piece of film recovered from the wreckage. The last photo taken of them, floating in space and floating in the air. All happy and smiling, as they will ever be remembered. The lives lost, potential destroyed, burns in his mind.

But, he had tasted space – and he would always want it. Even after the disasters, the deaths, he craved to go back to the stars…

'There can be no great accomplishment without risk'

When the men, and women, left, he remembers the dread of their families, knowing their precious ones may never be seen again. He remembers the pride, too – the were the best of the best, the true heroes of the age.

When they came home, people were afraid the men would be mad. Each turned from the path of flight, in different ways. Some of the new professions seemed strange, insane, almost. He wonders if space did not send them mad – rather, space allowed them to take on what they always dreamed of.

When they realised their grand insignificance, they realised life was too short to not chase after your dreams.

'It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn't feel like a giant. I felt very, very small.'