T-60 Minutes to Landing
I sent the signal.
And now, I waited.
Fifteen minutes. That was the delay for my message to reach Earth. Another fifteen minutes for their response to return. Thirty minutes of silence, of drifting in weightlessness, of waiting for confirmation that my voice would soon be heard by billions.
Thirty minutes alone with my thoughts.
I leaned back, exhaling as I adjusted my position. The months of solitude in this metal cocoon had forced me into a strict routine—exercise, maintenance, meal rations, sleep—but communication had always been limited to prerecorded messages. No real conversations, no live exchanges.
What if my voice had rusted in the silence?
I flexed my fingers, then rolled my shoulders, taking slow, deliberate breaths. My voice was another tool, just like my body, and like any tool, it needed sharpening.
I opened my mouth, letting my voice hum low in my throat. A vibration, a test.
Then, softly, I began to speak.
