“Morning!” I say as I float past a friend.
“Gosh, is it?” They say, gliding past me with ease.
We can all fly, you see, as free as birds. All of us can. In mid-air, we move like bobbing, bumping apples. Busy with our daily tasks. We worship a great machine and spend our day tending to its needs. Flying and checking a dial here, hovering and noting a reading there. This machine keeps us alive. It has taught us how to fly high above the oceans and clouds. If we worship it, it will keep us safe.
Our flight is not truly free, alas, for we are caged beasts who, beyond the confines of this cage, would surely die. Outside is blackness and despair, our homes no more than specks on a flash of blue and brown that we endlessly drift across like roaming nomads.
Round and round, we go on this giant fair ride, trapped and free simultaneously. Loving the thrill yet dreading any mistakes. Dreaming big dreams whilst taking care of minute details. We stare in wonder at the majesty of it all yet yearn for the journey home with all our hearts.
Saturday 24 June 2023
'A Space Station Odyssey' by David JI Hampton
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