Fortieth Birthday
It was a day that he thought he would see from a spaceship or from the outer bounds of whatever corner of the moon he had planted his flag on. The latter part was accurate, at least. He had that cozy little nook of the moon planned away for whenever the Earth got decidedly too hot to handle.
The spaceship? The getting there? Not so much. And in addition to that, he had to come to the epiphany and the sad realization that he was turning forty.
It was coming. God knows it had been coming. After all, when you had a daughter bordering on adulthood, it became hard to convince one's self that they were still in the glorious throws of youth. His back had started to twinge, though not badly, and most days he woke up peering in the mirror for grey's instead of bloodshot eyes.
Age, it was a coming.
He couldn't pass a birthday without a cake, which was why he had informed Beckett very seriously in a note that there was 'Trouble afoot in the kitchen. A storm of indecision wracks through a nation of troubled constituents. Come quickly.'
The spaceship? The getting there? Not so much. And in addition to that, he had to come to the epiphany and the sad realization that he was turning forty.
It was coming. God knows it had been coming. After all, when you had a daughter bordering on adulthood, it became hard to convince one's self that they were still in the glorious throws of youth. His back had started to twinge, though not badly, and most days he woke up peering in the mirror for grey's instead of bloodshot eyes.
Age, it was a coming.
He couldn't pass a birthday without a cake, which was why he had informed Beckett very seriously in a note that there was 'Trouble afoot in the kitchen. A storm of indecision wracks through a nation of troubled constituents. Come quickly.'