Writing Prompt

You nervously open the letter to discover you’ve been chosen as the first of seven pioneers to found a Mars colony. Your body is in perfect health to face the harsh challenges of extended space travel. This is the call to serve you’ve both been dreading and anticipating. You feel your body tremble with excitement and fear. Do you tell them now?

What would your wife think when she discovers you’ve secretly applied to the Mars Expedition Program without her knowing? For the past several months while she believed you were being treated for malignant cancer, you’ve actually undergone tests to determine your candidacy as an astronaut.

Now that the results are in you have a decision to make. You love your wife, and yet your entire life you’ve been struck paralyzed by a fear of mortality. The thought that your life is slowly ticking down to an inevitable end strikes you with anxious dread. If you stay on Earth you know you can lead a relatively happy life.

Thoughts course through your mind of watching your eldest son Thomas design his first naval spacecraft, taking after your scientific heritage. You picture holding your daughter, Gaby, arm in arm, as you walk her down the aisle on her wedding day and whisper, “Everything is going to be alright.”

Your first grandchild, their first chocolate bar, a family trip to the local fair, your wife’s smile, sunsets against the darkening sea, all these potential memories rendered apart by the tides of time. You see yourself laying on a hammock, below your family’s ancestral oak tree, draped in layers of wool. The oncoming chill of night touches your exposed feet. A sharp exhale parts your lips as darkness envelopes you. The Earth tumults into the Sun. All of mankind’s works crumble before the stars as surely as death. No memories of younger days, nor the bittersweet farewells of those you loved. You wait for a sign and see nothing.

Your mind races to the present, the letter still in hand. Your armpits fill with sweat. You bend over the office table and sign on the dotted line.

On October 25th, 2034, seven astronauts landed near Mar’s Korolev Crater. A small yet crucial step in establishing a foothold beyond Earth and into the greater Solar System. Their sacrifice will forever remain in the annals of human history.

Sitting, my eyes glaze over the floor. The letter appeared in pink and yellow. I took a second to sip my coffee before slouching down off the stool to pick up the small letter.

Addressed to me, the back wrote in large black letters, the senders address. I didn’t want to but I opened it anyway. Tasting the coffee drip off the side of my hand, the fingers sticky from jam, the letter was easy to open. The letter itself was an ugly off white yellow with tiny flecks here and there from the printers mistakes.

The letter was blank bar a single sentence. ‘Have you seen the triangle?’. None of it making sense, I hesitate to put it on the counter then look at it again. I read the question over and over. Surely there must be a mistake. Why would they have sent me this?

I put it down and sat on the stool, took the handle of the mug and sipped. Thinking how absurd the letter was. Thinking was this a joke. Taking it I read it again, thinking how absurd it must have been. I read again, over and over. Thinking there must be a mistake. I put the letter down. Took a sip of the coffee, thinking how absurd it was. It must be a joke. I take it again in my hands, reading it over and over. There must be a mistake. I put the letter-

I go to sip the coffee. It’s empty. There’s a black mold growing at the bottom. I drop the cup and the cup crashed, smashing the pieces all over the floor as well as the letter now ripped up as I couldn’t make sense of it. I clean the pieces up and throw them in the bin.

I decide to get another coffee and pour the boiled water from a kettle in the powder and stir. I think and went into a trance. My eyes glaze glaze over the floor from where I’m sitting.

The letter appeared in pink and yellow.