Dallas stretched against the life pod. His back felt so good as the vertebra realigned. The pod was built for the pippin module he had been assigned after the starliner company had overbooked. He had been in a fetal position for five days until the pod landed on the nearest planet viable for pippin.
The human leaned back even further, reveling in the stretch. He didn’t care about the business contract he was going to lose, or the fact he had been in the middle of laundering the one outfit he had when the alarm went off. He chuckled, his luggage, which got lost before the liner’s departure, likely would arrive at his destination before he did.
Since pippin had a smaller environmental window than humans, Dallas was confident he could survive until rescue. He felt a wave wash over his foot.
Enough stretching …. time to get the pod onto solid land, otherwise the homing beacon might wash out to sea.
(words 162 – originally appearing at Sunday Fun on Breathless Press 2/17/2013 – The original photo of a hunky guy stretching over a white shape on the beach was of unknown copyright so did not put on my site – published on old blog 2/17/2013; republished in new blog format on 7/11/2017)