I started falling just about thirty hours ago.
The orbital pilot training program was supposed to teach us how to deal with weightlessness, but some pilots never successfully adapt. It’s not any fault of the pilot. It’s just my inner ear won’t stop screaming: “Hey help we’re falling do something save us save us save us!”
My semicircular canals have teamed up with my vestibular nerves to urge me to run screaming, every moment. Doc wants me to go under, anesthesia, before my adrenals shut down permanently.
Perhaps I should have listened and accepted my severance when they washed me out of the program? This stowaway idea was terrible.
Without gravity I can’t even tell which way is down. Through this airlock?
Now I’m strapped into the commander’s seat and drugged, that’s better.
I may be screaming. Somehow, I don’t hear a sound.
143 words, in response to this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers prompt:
My apologies to Peter Gabriel and Afro Celt Sound System, unfortunately some of the lyrics just fit the tale perfectly:
ParkInkSpot 
Maybe it is a good thing he can’t hear himself scream. Possibly his ears shut down on him in protest? It went along with the video and song beautifully.
A prolonged terror can make anyone go bugshit, but I suspect this fellow had problems long before going into orbit.
Sounds like he probably did have problems prior to going into orbit.
Yes, he probably should have accepted his severance, then he wouldn’t be ‘strapped into the commander’s seat and drugged’. Not much use as a commander though, is he?
Not much use for anything, in the state he’s in.
No, he isn’t. Very sad…
Dave, thank you for participating in FFfAW challenge! 🙂