Inspired by: 5 Words #70
Galahad’s eyes flung open as he gasped back to life. He rolled onto his side, choking on the thick oxygen that burned his dormant lungs. Blearily, he looked around the room. Repair Wing 120 was painted in big, red letters above the door.
“Where am I?”
A nurse droid quickly wheeled across the room.
“Just relax now. You’re safe,” it said, nudging him back into bed with silicone tipped fingers. “What is the last thing that you remember?”
Galahad put a hand to his forehead. He rubbed his eyes, the fogginess beginning to lift.
“There was an explosion… I was getting off my shift at the osmium mine on Carpasia.”
“And what year was that?”
“What year?” Galahad said incredulously.
Galahad stared into the robot’s dead mechanical eyes.
“416.” The droid seemed to be waiting for more information. “A.E…”
“Ah. And what is your species?”
“My spe…! Dasypus Sapiens,” Galahad said, despondent.
“Recorded. Thank you.”
“How… Exactly what happened? Why am I here?”
“Your remains were discovered on an osmium-rich asteroid in the Silactic Belt…”
“Remains?! I was dead?”
“Mummified, actually. Crushed beneath approximately 600 tons of salt.”
Galahad looked down at his scaly arms and tapped two long claws together. His stomach fell out from under him as he felt the rush of time passing him by.
“What… what year is it?”
“How long ago was 416 A.E.?”
“Approximately 53 million years.”
Galahad gulped. His throat felt dry.
“Yeah… that’s what I thought.”