She’s a quiet, artsy, homebody type. He's a bleeding heart, space fanatic. Standing next to each other in Trader Joe's, staring at frozen burritos he takes a chance and asks her,
"Do you know what astronauts eat?" After noting his shoulders supporting his 6’4 frame she responded, "do you?" He exposed a genuine gap tooth grin. “Yeah. Mostly freeze-dried stuff. But I know where to get the real deal.”
Two days later, they were strapped into a sleek space cruiser, Earth shrinking below them. Their first date—an orbital dinner above the planet. Weightless, she floated in her seat, taking in the view. “Not bad,” she admitted. He was taking her in, an equally breathtaking view
Then, the explosion.
A fireball bloomed over the Pacific. Alarms blared. “What the fuck was that?” she gasped.
He fumbled with the controls, scanning frantic reports. “Something hit Earth. A major impact.”
She looked down. Fires. Inside of 5 minutes the darkness enveloped Earth. “We can’t go back, can we?”
His jaw tightened. “Not for a while.”
Silence. Then, she let out a dry laugh. “Well, I always wanted to get out more.”
He smirked despite everything. “Guess the universe decided for you.”
As the wreckage of their home planet flickered below, she muttered, “Earth ghetto, anyway.”
Their hands found each other, gripping tight as they drifted into the unknown.
