The Hopper. The European Space Agency had tasked me with keeping track of their experimental spacecraft. My problem was I didn’t have a damned clue where it was.
I was pacing back and forth. How do you tell your bosses you lost their €80 million investment? The sonic boom broke my concentration.
The Hopper came barreling down, tearing up the front lawn and smashing into my garage. It could have been a worse crash landing. Joey Ramone climbed out of the escape hatch and smiled at me. I wasn’t angry. I just hoped he’d write a song about it.
***
Title by: The polish machine gun
Story by: Quintin
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