It was raining lilac on the moon β he said then that there would be trouble.
On monday, pale demons in the form of a cosmic void captured a rocket. Time is slipping through fingers like lizards in the red sand of Mars. There is no life around, only an oxygen simulation for starving lungs. Tom doesn't laugh anymore, although he used to do it more often. The cold in Space had killed his faith in warmth.
On tuesday, the collection of soda cans under his bed is getting bigger and bigger. The stars make his eyes blink. Tom is tired.
On wednesday, he is constantly muttering something about black holes. Major Tom's nervous eyes look like space, which he now hates a lot. To which he gave his life. He breaks insomnia and prepares for an emergency landing // anywhere //, and the crew barely manages to calm him down.
Learn to fly with such sad tenderness, so that just set wings on fire on the control panel?
On sunday, space took them away forever, and venus cried in our place.
A spaceship maneuvering in outer space, and Tom, so desperately trying to reconnect with earth's orbit.
"This is Major Tom to ground control. Iβm not sure if this thing will work after so many days, but I'll try again.."