The hose attached to his helmet waved in a welcoming manner as the last of his air leaked out along with his life. Hope they were able to manage re-entry without him because he and his wrench were floating in freefall. The view would be magnificent if his dead eyes could see like they didn’t see the sharp metal tile that found a home in the line that was his life, his oxygen, his umbilical cord, linking him to home.
Yikes, girl. You’re gonna make me cry. There’s devious doo-wop workin’ here.
sorry Ground Control, Major Tom is not picking up. He’s jammin to other toons these days and they’re not playing on MySpace dude!
that was silly but hope it brought your smile back 🙂