midnight for miles

I woke up wobbly on the wrong side of the moon. It was midnight for miles. Nine missed calls, my helmet blinked. I threw up vodka inside my mask and inhaled it, until my crew found me. I showered. Then I was fired while I was shaving. I’m back in Nevada now, and it’s summer, and the wind splits against my chin, and nighttime means I drink Wild Turkey, bury my ankles in desert sand and look up, spotting the crater I dreamt inside of, shivering like I’m still asleep.

{flash fiction ~ Tommy Tung}
{art ~ Martin Wittfooth}