Routine
At first, it’s fun. Being up on the moon.
Spaceboy, just like he’d always dreamed about.
He exercises, learns about his wretched body. The size, the strength, the scars.
The limits.
He clings to his routine, grasps it with both hands and doesn’t let go. Wake up, eat, water the plant. Check the equipment, exercise, science. Snack. Suit up, take a drive, sample, take out the trash before unsuiting again. Eat again, if supplies allow. Sleep.
Rinse. Repeat.
Except he can’t rinse, there’s no shower.
No comfort. No company. No end in sight.
Then... well then, it’s no fun anymore.
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