Challenge #11: Write a story inspired by the music of David Bowie.
"Ground Control to Major Tom. Ground Control to Major Tom.”
“Zzzzz…what? Sorry. I took a few ‘protein pills’ this morning.”
“Again?!? I thought you would be clean by now. You’ve at least got your helmet on, right?”
“Of course! Glass thingy at the front and everything.”
“That’s it. We’re calling this mission off…what’s that? Oh. Oh, really? Major Tom, it seems you’re already in space.”
“I had noticed a lot of rockety type noises.”
“It looks like we’ll have to work with what…hang on, someone’s talking to me down here. What is it? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. No, I guess…it wouldn’t be true, though. You do realise he’s on the radio right now, right? He can hear what you’re saying. Fine! I’ll tell him anyway. Major Tom?”
“Yes?”
“Major Tom, you’ve really made the grade.”
“That’s very nice of you to say.”
“And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear.
“Actually, I’m not…”
“Because I’m sure we all remember how you were dressed when you arrived. That was unpleasant for all involved.”
“I’m telling you, I don’t know how that lobster got there!”
“That’s fine. Let’s just concentrate on the mission: now’s the time to leave the capsule, if you dare.”
“Right-o. Uh. This is Major Tom to Ground Control, I’m stepping through the door, and…I’m floating in the most peculiar way.”
“You did get the jetpack on your way out, right?”
“Uuh.”
“Should I take that as a ‘no?’“
“The stars look very different today.”
“That’s nice, but you’re currently drifting out into space. Let’s focus on that for now.”
“Here I am, sitting in a tin can above the world.”
“Hey! Joe spent all morning on that ‘tin can.’ Try and be a little more appreciative.”
“Planet Earth is blue and there’s nothing I can do.”
“Yeah. You’re pretty screwed. I just wish we’d got an astronaut who wasn’t high to begin with.”
“Though I’m past one hundred thousand miles, I’m feeling very still.”
“Well, without a jetpack, you would.”
“And I think my spaceship knows which way to go.”
“Which would be great if you were on it.”
“Tell my wife I love her very much…”
“Yeah yeah. I’ll pass that on to the lobster. Uh…Ground Control to Major Tom? Your circuit’s dead. I’m pretty sure there’s something wrong. Can you hear me, Major Tom? I said ‘can you hear me, Major Tom?’ Can you hear me, Major Tom? Can you…ugh. We simply have to stop picking astronauts based on David Bowie songs.”
YOU ARE READING
OCR is Not the Only Font
HumorSilly, surreal and sometimes serious, these thirty-one very short stories cover a vast range of subjects and themes. Written entirely during July 2012, these flash fiction pieces are accompanied by a deeply unscientific analysis of the challenge tha...
