Spaceman

by MozaWesterburg

As a kid, Stuart wanted to do everything, go everywhere—including outer space. But that's a far way to go for a mouse. Dissuaded by his childhood mentor, he shelved the dream and forgot it. Years later, when the issues of ordinary life start to bring teenage Stuart down, a little birdie decides it's time to cross off something from both their bucket lists. 7 part short story!

1. Prologue

Prologue

I fly past a dog juggling three kittens in his paws, soar backwards towards frogs rising on an inhale, and swim under hamsters doing cartwheels mid-air. And it's not a dream.

Floating in zero gravity, we're weightless. All of us. It's absurd and magical, and I feel so special to be a part of it. Down on earth, we're predators and prey. Separated into groups by region, species, and the food chain. But here in this shuttle, if only for a moment, it feels like we're the same. That we were equals, just by being earthlings.

I look down and see the bird in my arms. Though we look different, and live different lives, and had our trust put on trial, I never felt so close to Margalo. There's gotta be a reason we're so drawn to each other. There's gotta be a reason we've stayed together this long. Man or mouse, doesn't matter. I am just one half a whole. And she's the other.

That's when the cabin lights silently flicker off, and the world as I knew it violently rushes up from under me.

---

Your life will flash before your eyes. I mean, that's the cliche, right?

A 404 error message is all my brain can load. I'm the prey animal frozen in the headlights. All I want is to see my family. Mom, Dad, George. Martha. Moments I don't think about everyday. Moments I forgot. Somehow, I can't even die right.

As you face down the end, you're supposed to see images of the past. Moments and people that made you who you are. Maybe this is just something people made up to enhance the impact of a story. Or maybe this is really how we cope. Either way, I don't think I've gotten the handle on this. Even though I've seen my share of close calls, this has never happened to me. And it's not happening now.

Beyond wishing something and someone would come and save my friends and my girlfriend from this, the memories won't come. All I got is this one day, twelve years ago. Like pulling up the backyard garden hose, caked under the mud, that day came back to me. The day that made all this happen. One detail, linked to another, linked to another, the memory clearer by the second.

And it all started with a simple question.