~
Rocky Planet
Day 1
Landing on the distant planet promises discovery and adventure.
Instead, there are rocks.
Rocks to traverse. Rocks to dissect. Rocks to catalog.
The mission parameters dictate she is alone with this bleak, unforgiving, unforgivably boring landscape.
Day 48
The work does lead to discovery, by any technical definition of the word. The rocks give up new rock-related data. Potentially useful and interesting details.
For someone else.
Adventure is nowhere to be found.
Day 237
Months of familiarity bring no more interest or companionship from the rocks.
While she gathers yet more to study, the scientist’s leg slips into a gap between two boulders. To someone with lowered standards, the sudden jolt and awkward stance almost qualify as adventure. But not really. It’s hardly worth a sigh of annoyance while she maneuvers to pull her leg free.
There is still room for new discovery – the extreme hardness of this particular variety of rock, sharp enough to slice through spacewalk-certified material. Or maybe the polymer has been worn down with repetition, just like her.
The empty-atmosphere silence of such a momentous tear almost makes her laugh.
As the oxygen rushes out, she thinks, “Finally.”
~
Lorie Witkop
Lorie Witkop works in the assessment industry but has made a pandemic-era-soul-searching-inspired return to writing after a long hiatus. She spent most of her previous professional writing life creating web content. When it comes to pieces focusing on economy of words, she has been published in Scifaikuest and Tweet the Meat. She has a B.A. in English from Michigan State University.