Ficlets

Day one.
The engine’s beyond gone. Communications, dead. What rations I managed to salvage are few. Vessel will serve as base camp for now. Sun’s going down. Perimeter search will have to wait.

Day two.
Cold today, like the onset of winter. Yesterday, the heat was almost unbearable. Forest to the north may provide food when rations run out. I must find water soon. Getting colder…

Day three.
It’s warmer now. Considerably so. Some kind of berry grows abundantly in the forest. Not sure if edible. Rations still remain, maybe three days worth. The sky is…

Day four?
Memory lapse. Woke up fifty feet from camp with minor scrapes. Rations gone. Weather’s turning again, not sure if thermal gear will suffice. May need to consider moving camp. Experiencing minor tremors in left hand. Not thirsty but probably should be. The woods are thrumming.

Day five.
The world is made of glass. The air chimes. Could hear whispering. Search revealed nothing. Something moves above the trees at night.