It’s dark and cold and utterly still out here among the bright stars. Contemplative. All I’ve got left is some pepsi and half a tube of food. And about five breaths of air.

– James Steerforth (© 2012)

Written for trifecta week 8. The task was to write a story about ‘lost’ in exactly 33 words, without using the word ‘lost’ in the story itself.

About James Steerforth

I am an author of poetry and fiction, translator and painter who loves to have fun with borrowed feathers.
This entry was posted in Bland observations, Creative writing, Enigma, Flash fiction, Literature, Science fiction, Sweet dreams and nightmares, Writing. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Lost

  1. suburbanlife says:

    This has the feel of a perfect beginning of a wonderful novel, a speculative one. Reminds me of the Bulwer-Lytton chestnut “It was a dark and stormy night…” It might be fun to spin this one out to a short story, or novella. One you can have greaf amusement of in the writing. G

  2. Anthony says:

    Good poem…hope that never happens to me…of course, I am not yet a space traveler.

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