stale air through the recirculator, the filter filled with red dust, makes for labored breathing even in low gravity and leaves a taste in your mouth like old pennies

it was a one way trip, everyone knew that to be the case even if it wasn’t explicitly stated in the manifest no one really bother to read before excitedly signing

colonize mars, be the first humans to live upon the red planet, see sights no other person had seen before, the beginning of the push of mankind into the galaxy at last

they didn’t mention it was mostly red rocks, being thirsty and hungry nearly all twenty fours and thirty nine minutes a day, or that it ground down the spirit quickly

no, they sold it as an adventure that didn’t quite live up to the boring nature of having the spectre of death float over every single decision made for you daily

but the stars were clear when the dust storms didn’t rage, the ice caps were beautiful even as you slowly mined away at the permafrost to try and survive

it was a lot like home, just without your family or friends, living most if the time in a clunky suit as you scavenged the vermillion dirt for precious minerals and water

a one way trip to enrich all of mankind at the expense of your emotional well being, forsaking a life of joy for the sake of maybe being a footnote in history