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December 1, 2010 | Fiction

Transmissions from Space

Dan Sanders

Transmissions from Space photo

February the First, 2010

Hello my friends. As many of you have heard on the news, I have decided to pay the Russian Space Program 20 million American dollars to fly me to the moon. It’s been a lifelong dream of mine to conquer space ever since I first heard the words "That’s one small step for man, One giant leap for menkind."

I was seven when I first started to really think about my future. A teacher asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I said "Astro-Naut." Ever since that moment, I’ve taken steps to ensure that I would one day take steps on the moon. I don’t have a lot of time to write right now. I just wanted to tell you in my own words what was going on.


February the Fourth, 2010

Wheels are in motion. The Russian academy has decided to train me for space travel. They confirmed that the check cleared this morning. I begin the arduous training tomorrow at 6am. They are aware that I failed Space Training when I was in the Air Force. They did not seem to mind. I do not know their language.


February 18th 2010

I have spent the better part of two weeks in the Russian training camp. I have excelled at the javelin, the skeet shoot and Gallaga. Wheels are turning. Big, red, Russian space wheels - though my comrades do seem mildly disinterested in my progress and my failed eye exam. Upon completing my physical, my doctor looked at me and said "meh" and shrugged his shoulders. I do not know their language. It is proving to be an obstacle.


Feb 19th 2010

I spent the entire day training underwater.

The water main in the basement ruptured and we all pitched in to help before the gymnasium flooded. Yuri, my spiritual advisor and close companion, is a terrific welder and very handy with CPR.


Feb 24th 2010

We launch in four days. I am assured that my time here has been worthwhile. I feel better than I have in years. Yuri bought a Cadillac. He’s very excited. Every time he sees me he erupts into joyous laughter and says "Cadillac" in his thick Russian accent. He is the very best spiritual advisor a fifty year old man could have before being launched into space.


Feb 28

We launch in five hours. I couldn’t sleep last night. My dreams are soon to be fulfilled. Space will be amazing. I am a child at Christmas.


March the First, 2010

I am in outer space! The launch went off without too many hitches. I was told with violent shaking and incomprehensible screaming that the aft compartments are off limits due to the raging inferno contained therein. Yuri is dead. I am in space!


March 2nd

I’m still in space. It remains as it has.


3rd

I continue to be in space. I keep bumping into things. Floating is more annoying than you’d think. It’s fun for about two hours and then everything is just difficult. And that’s about it:  Float around and look out the window. I have no idea how my stocks are doing. I would kill for a cigarette. I wonder if the dogs are fed.

I should have brought a magazine.


4

Still in this fucking tube. I am bored. I just sort of assumed they’d have games or puzzles or something. I keep asking the cosmo-nauts if they would like to play hide and seek, but they dismiss me and scurry around the rocket doing whatever it is that they do. They put out the fire yesterday. They seemed pretty excited about that. But who can even tell? That goddamn language. It’s like it’s a trick.


Not sure

I haven’t written in a few days. I slept through most of it. But! Today we finally land on the moon! I can’t wait. My earlier enthusiasm has returned!


March 10

I walked on the moon’s surface and I picked up some moon dirt and I moon-bounced around a bit. But that made me moon-sick, so I had to sit down on the moon. But you know what else there is to do on the moon? Nothing. Same as in the stupid rocket. Thanks to Bob, for telling me that there would be Skiing. No skiing, Bob. They don’t even have that moon car. Or any outlet stores. This whole trip has been so boring.

Oh, one of the cosmonaut’s suits tore on a moon rock and he lost his moon pressure and his head moon-popped.


March the Fifteenth, 2010

Finally back on Earth! We hit some turbulence on the way back. Apparently Ivan had trouble steering the rocket all by himself because he wouldn’t stop crying and we crash landed into the Bay of Biscayne. I don’t know if you know where that is, but I don’t know where that is. Apparently I’m the only survivor. I’d tell you I was fine, but that would be a lie. I’ll be fine when I get back to New York.

What a boring vacation.

If you’re going to take people into space, provide them with something to do. Let a guy go tanning once in a while. They should have told me that all I was going to do was spend 20 million dollars to float around with some Russians. I wanted an Iced Mocha so bad you have no idea. They didn’t even have one coffee machine! On the whole rocket!

I’ll be home soon, I have to go to 3 state funerals before I’m allowed to leave. Snooze City.

image: Valerie Molloy


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