The Dream of Stars

I bring my ship to a halt, countless miles out into the void of space. The stars fill my vision, and I try to remember - how long has it been now, since I woke? It feels like years, but it has been only days. Weeks? Perhaps it really has been years. I can no longer tell. I have seen so few signs of the living. My Exosuit speaks to me, my starship suggests a course. I see glimpses of myself, reflections of some other reality, dutifully fulfilling all the tasks of survival that their equipment suggests. For a moment, I shut it all out. I let myself pause, and dream.