Flash Fiction – Grounded (Stories on a Theme – “Space”)

I’m here, I know this. I can feel the ground beneath my feet, the wind against my cheeks. 

But Zanthe, you know your mind isn’t.

Yeh, I’m aware of that. My mind is not here, because it’s there, on the spaceship 14 years ago when it all happened. My mind is always there when it rains because the rain sounds like the debris field clattering on the side of the spaceship. 

And yet, here I am, standing in the rain and staring up at the clouds. The splatter of the rain against my cheeks reminds me that I’m not there. I can breathe, there are no warnings, no oxygen limits blaring in my ears. 

No screams.

Just the rain.

Hammering against my cheeks and the ground.

I stand here for around 10 minutes, until my clothes are soaked through and my mind is back here, on this planet. It’s just at the point when I start shivering from the cold that I turn back towards my small house, stepping under the safe protection of the porch and go inside.

Now, the rain just sounds like rain.

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