The smoke bellowed out from turbine one. The craft veered to the left violently. Gravity was taking over. The other turbine will also give up soon. Then it's free fall and then maybe a sickening crash, thought Zarkov. It was his first mission to Earth. Everyone had warned him of the perils of gravity. He never thought his turbines would die out on him. His craft had never acted this way on any planet. The oxygen would've done the trick. His craft's overheated turbines just ignited like flares. There goes the second turbine. It's time to activate the evacuation pod. A voice deep inside his mind begged him to stop. He tried to reason with that voice, but finally he gave in. Like his inner voice he too was determined to see what will be the end like.
Looks like the fog just spared my window to the street. The street lights looked liking smokers in an alley. The cobble stones were wet from the drizzle. The street dogs were busy barking at something. A breeze just unsettled the garbage can's lid. My world hasn't changed much. Everyday I look for some sign of change. Nothing seems to change. I have grown bald. My eyesight has dimmed. My kids have grown. The window pane has gathered dust and dirt. The spiders have evolved. Some old buildings have given way to new ones. The neon signs have gone. Still nothing seem to have changed. Change they say has to come from within. But then, what can come out of an empty narrow dead end?
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