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Life of a Space Gypsy

Roxane’s cold, unblinking eyes stared through the cockpit window out into the vast emptiness of space. She sat still as death. Days passed and she did not move. Within her half-starved body, her heart beat just enough to squeeze a bit more blood into her extremities.

Suddenly, her dark eyes flicked upwards as a nearly empty bag of potato chips drifted into her vision, caught in current of recycled air. Slowly she lifted a gaunt hand. Narrow fingers reached into the bag. With deliberate movement, she brought a potato chip into her mouth. She bit down, splitting the morsel in half. She bit again and then a third time, carefully breaking the chip down until she could swallow.

As she sluggishly ate her first meal in days, her eyes returned to their forward post. This was the unique skill of Roxane’s people. With little effort, Roxane could slow her body’s metabolism to a crawl and bring her mind to a state of pure unthinking awareness, taking in every little detail as she simply relaxed and drifted.

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