A junked-up nav beacon on the edge of sector eight.
She’s dreamy.
Okay, sometimes I think she wants to kill me. She’s like a cross between a Labrador and a leopard. And I’m pretty sure she reads minds.
Honestly, I can’t tell why I’m even needed here.
If you can call a NASA lifeboat a “car.” It gets me to my girl’s place and back. Drives like shit.
In deep space, no one can hear you sob.
Look at all that nothingness. Can you feel it looking back?