"Being a good writer is 3% talent, 97% not being distracted by the internet." Cyrus Farivar

Saturday, July 7, 2012

With the Stars

Another Gamers with Jobs bi-weekly challenge has appeared! This time it was: Write a story from first person, without using the pronoun "I." 

401 words.

With the Stars

            The ship swayed barely under our feet, something noticeable in the first day or two of flight. Our passengers milled in the lounge, waiting for the meal Ellis currently slaved over. Smirking as her husband wandered through, he stole a bite, laughing as she smacked his hand away. Popping another piece in his mouth, she decided to steal a kiss this time. They held it for a moment before her resolve cracked, a smile slipping on her fa├žade.
            Going back down the cramped corridor, my boots echoed on the metal walk. It wasn’t my place to be in the galley. The cockpit required my attention, but there were occasions to sneak away. Ellis would wander up with food, or perhaps to play a game of checkers.
            As far as the eye could see, were stars. The bay windows revealed the vast emptiness we traversed. Shuttling passengers wasn’t my favorite task; all we searched for was another gig in the sky.
            “You’re awfully quiet, Captain,” Ellis noted, shoving my boots off the console and handing me a tray.
            “Just the usual, Ellis. Someone has to keep an eye on everyone.” Snagging the plate, it took only a moment for me to dig in, returning my feet to the console. Ignoring Ellis rolling her eyes, she dropped in the seat across from mine.
            “You seem distracted, is all.” Glancing up, our eyes met. Returning to my food, my mind mulled over a response, something she’d believe.
            “We have to keep our head above the water. That’s all…Just listening to the black for another gig.” Silence fell between us. Jobs were harder to come by, the market competitive for those that had a reputation to keep.
            “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you, Tarin?” Her words cut right through me. My tardy answer gave me away, which we both knew.
            “Dinner tastes great. It’s those fresh veggies you spend all our money on, huh?”
            “Something like that,” she trailed, still watching me, hoping for my shell to crack. “We always fly this around that time. Like clockwork, you’re drawn here; drawn to the remnants of your memories,” she murmured, picking at a loose thread on her sleeve.
            “Thanks for the meals, Ellis.” Holding the tray out to her, our eyes met.
            “Don’t hold it all in. You don’t have to be strong for me,” she whispered, accepting the plate before leaving me with the stars.

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