Tuesday, January 8, 2013

100 Words a Day 150

As his head cleared, the sounds of the alarms penetrated the haze the crash had left him in. He held up his hand, shielding his eyes from the flashing lights. Struggling, he eventually found the release for his crash webbing.

He stumbled out of his chair, bracing himself against the instrument panel, and staggered towards the twin bridge doors, which were slightly ajar, tripping over the lose components that littered the floor.

Bodies and body parts littered his route and he did his best to not only to avoid the fluids, but to avoid thinking about what the fluids were.

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