He awoke with his legs numb underneath the console, a sign of restful sleep – not that his cramped position at the helm ever allowed for much tossing or turning. Over the years, numbness in all six extremities was commonplace as his heart rate had slowed in response to his sedentary lifestyle. He was just thankful that blood-flow had yet to fully decrescendo. But after light stretching and squeezing, feeling in all four legs was slowly regained. With physical health re-affirmed, he stared ahead at the solitary light and re-evaluated his mental state.
You again.
The questioning of reality was nothing new, nothing he feared. He had been floating alone through outer space for years, after all. Screws were bound to be loose. Even so, it felt good to confirm his sanity from time to time. And in spite of a few manic episodes, his resolved maintained.
A lesser cosmonaut surely would have lost their wits soon after the journey began, or gone mad after the CRITICAL ERROR occurred. But THE EXPLORER OF THE STARS was not a lesser cosmonaut. No, he was the best choice to execute this mission. By far the most qualified. Plus, he was the only candidate truly willing to leave his or her life behind. There was nothing there left for him at home, anyway.
But memories of home, ironically enough, helped him in assessing his psychological health. They exercised his mind, and with all other stimuli lost, it's pretty much all he had. He often thought back to the first time he met his wife, her chestnut hair, her flawless green skin. He remembered the birth of his beautiful baby girl with her ten perfect fingers and twenty perfect toes. Her first words...and her last. All in the past, but still all there.
Back in the present, he sighed. Times had surely changed. His destination, on the other hand, had not. The pinpoint still sat at his twelve o'clock – one thing his defunct dashboard clock was still good for.
