Blood pooled around my feet as the hull metal popped and pinged, quickly cooling off. The Martian atmosphere is vanishingly thin, but that was by far the least of my problems.
The blood is from a structural member of my ship currently piercing my thigh. Not arterial, but I certainly wasn’t going to survive this, no chance, not out here alone. My ship’s atmosphere was leaking out through a massive hole and I watched the porthole frosting over as the temperature dropped.
I started to laugh when I saw the light shining through the frosted glass. Maybe I was mistaken.
“I would like to die on Mars. Just not on impact.“–Elon Musk
Inspired by this 100WordStory.org photo prompt:
ParkInkSpot 