From inside we lose track of time, the monochromatic landscape does not let us know if it is day or night. If it wasn't the clock on the display I'd not know when to leave. Maybe fatigue could be a way of knowing it's time to go, but most probably after the body and the mind have already cracked.
“Huston, I'm coming home”. The thick clothes turn the movements into a robotic walk; gloves protect from the outer space cold but frustrate the feeling of touch, I have to operate my instruments through a stylus on the touch screen of my portable device.
I look at the watch one more time before leaving; this gives me the illusion that I actually control time. My steps are intentionally slow on the almost lunar surface that reflects the opaque light from the gray sky over the city. There are a thousand traps hidden under the ice.
Waiting for the train we are all astronauts with our synthetic clothes that make us look like an inflated gas station doll. The frozen breeze puts more pressure on ourselves, like we were under an unbearable burden. The train arrives almost punctual as it was a rescue capsule.
Inside the car the silence is only interrupted by the voice on the speaker, but none of us give them needed attention. In here we are as alone as out in space, our eyes do not see the others and each one of us has a distant glimmer in the eye like a star that died thousands of light years away.
For now we are just lifeless meteors, each one on the way to it own destiny. Our trip is short. “Blim blom, next stop ...” No more time to think about why we do the same thing every day already knowing how this whole story will end ... At least I'm not alone on the way home. Elton came with me because at home I'm not what they think. I am a Rocket Man.
