Commander Walsh checked his tether and gazed down at Earth’s curve. The blue marble rotated peacefully beneath him, cloud formations swirling over familiar continents.
Then he saw it.
A brilliant flash erupted somewhere over what looked like Eastern Europe. Within seconds, the telltale mushroom cloud billowed upward, punching through the atmosphere like a malignant tumour.
His breath caught. “Control, do you—”
Another flash. This time further west.
Then another.
Walsh’s hands trembled against his helmet as the radio crackled with urgent voices, fragments of panic bleeding through static. More detonations bloomed across the daylit hemisphere.
His heart hammered when he recognised the familiar coastline beneath the latest flash. Home. The word turned to ash in his throat.
Walsh watched his species destroy itself whilst he floated in the void, mouth wide in silent scream.
Leave a comment