When things fall apart

I was flying through space when my rocket ship began to break apart. First the engine fell out. Then the radar dropped off. The wings cracked and fell away. And then the walls of the ship snapped off and flew out into space.

What was left was me sitting in my chair, in my spacesuit, floating in the nothingness of space.

I didn’t really need the chair, so I unbuckled the seat belt, and the chair slowly separated from me.

It was now just me, floating in space. I couldn’t tell if I was moving or still.

Being without a ship was scary. I felt vulnerable. But then I thought, “Well, how safe was I when I had the ship, because it fell apart.”

I began to relax. I noticed the Milky Way. I was in awe of the bright colors of Jupiter.

I found myself singing a song I learned back in Kindergarten:

Look at the ball bounce up and down,

Listen to the cow make its moo sound,

Smell the flower’s sweet nectar,

Feel the softness of the feather,

Taste the sweetness of the cookie,

Lookie, brookie, pookie, wookie.