Ficly

(Day 14) ...is your own damn self.

(From the log of Col. Terrence Green)

Day 8

No sign of what ever in the hell caused that banging. All I know it was solid. I felt in my bones whenever it hit. I checked all the diagnostics and they came back clean. There’s one thing I can for the mystery sound: my day went by a lot quicker than if I had been staring at the sun all day.

Wouldn’t it be something if I had imagined it? You know, to forget about the sun? Anyway, almost time for bed. I spent all day today fixing a problem with the communication array. I just flew in from space and, boy, are my arms tired. Haha. A little joke.

Day 9

I slept horribly. I wrote yesterday is bothering me. What if I did imagine it? Dr. Whatshisnose told to watch out for a rare thing… what did he call it? (pen mark trails, ends in a blot.)

Day 11

“Space dementia” he called it. It’s unofficial, it’s not provable, but still. I keep hearing things and I swear my time lightside is increasing every day. Maybe my brain’s changing.

Maybe I’m crazy.

View this story's 1 comments.