Firstclass Pov !!link!! Now

I begin the slow drift back, hand over hand along the station’s hull. My tether trails behind me like an umbilical cord—which, I suppose, it is. Attached to this metal womb, fed by its tubes and wires, breathing its recycled farts and science experiments.

I look out at the black. There’s always anomalies. The human body isn’t meant for this. My fingernails are loose from the pressure gloves. My retinas have micro-tears from cosmic rays. My spine compresses and decompresses like a sad accordion every time I sleep in the centrifuge. firstclass pov

Saito. Status.