Author’s note: Never tell me something’s impossible. It gives me ideas.

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It’s seven o’clock. I know it’s seven because of the damn speakers. Every morning I can hear them. I’ve destroyed all the ones I can reach, but it’s not enough. Through the thick glass portholes into the flooded sections of the ship, out there in that sea of methane, helium, and whatever else, the damn system keeps playing, on hundreds of speakers. And I can still hear them. Continue reading →