Four lines of prose about: the astronaut.
We made some good progress on the yard today. I was also quite excited to see some signs of life in the lilac bushes at the edge of the road. Spring is indeed here, despite the lack of sun.
Will had wanted to be an astronaut ever since the first grade. The other kids would change their dream professions when they grew up on a daily - if not hourly - basis. Will never wavered.
But now, as he looks around the six by ten room in which he'll be spending the next four months, with two other men, with the vastness of outer space pushing against the walls, he must be wondering whether or not he had ever properly understood what being an astronaut really entailed.