TM 181- Perfect Day
I can't even imagine a perfect day anymore. A day without pain is getting pretty damn close to my definition of perfect. I guess the closest I can come is the day of Galactica's decommissioning ceremony, the day the Cylons came back. It wasn't a perfect day, but it was a frakking good one- Galactica was spit-shined and as ready as we could make her to show civilian kids what a warship was supposed to be like. I remember my uniform collar was too tight, and I hadn't worn the dress in forever, since I got my own commission, I think. I'm not sure. Things blur, before and after the attack. It seems like we've been running forever. Sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever stop running, if the Cylons are just herding us to some strange plan of their own.
But perfect day. I guess that day came close, because that was the day when I knew that Commander Adama wasn’t just proud of Galactica. He was proud of us.
Muse: Felix Gaeta
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Word count: 115