Eve Fiction

The temptation is strong. I’ve always had a habit of, er, forming habits, but it’s worse now that my sense of purpose is diminished. Smoking, drinking, and various drugs have taken a piece of me over the years. Still do. The enforced idleness of the pod doesn’t help: one of the reasons I spend less time in space now than ever.

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I wormed my way along the ducting, pushing my backpack ahead
of me. I tried to not even think the word claustrophobia, lest it make
it reality. I tried not to pay too much attention to the obvious signs of
corrosion that crusted areas of the metal surface I was scraping along and
tried not to imagine the state of the braces that would be holding the
structure to the ceiling. I tried; failed. Plan A was turning into a nightmare.

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