Maple syrup! The realization finally hit him. That was the answer; He was sure. Ever since he’d been incapacitated, to say the least, he’d been wondering about what he was missing.
That was maybe the only thing he regretted: the fact he hadn’t taken even one sachet of maple syrup when he had the chance. It had always been by far his favorite combination, banana bread and maple syrup. He’d once refused a hundred dollars to eat it, and truthfully, a thousand wouldn’t have made him budge.
A screech rang out in a distant hallway.
He looked to the banana bread to his left; sure it was mildly dusty and a piece of glass seemed to have pierced, besides that, though, it looked as delectable as always.
He reached out, stretching his hand till he was sure any more would cause it to snap.
He scoffed, damn his tiny arms.
He tried to move, tried to shift his body so he was just that little bit closer to the bread. It was futile. He was completely and utterly stuck. He looked to the fallen paneling from the ceiling which was covering his legs from the thigh down, blood pooling under it. At least he’d had a numbing shot to prevent the pain. He’d always been lucky like that.
He looked up at the ceiling, among the wiring and debris loosely hanging from the location where the panel on his legs should’ve been, there was a large metal pipe hanging down. It was just close enough to grab.
He grinned before yanking it with all his might.
Unfortunately, his moment of triumph was ruined by the sarks which flew and the loud and sharp
“SHIT!”
he exclaimed afterwards.
The screeches in the distance stopped.
Well, time to see if his plan was worth it. He used the pipe to try and bring the bread in closer. There was a moment where he nearly knocked it away, yet he ultimately prevailed. Picking it up, he began devouring it like a famished child. He didn’t mind the crunch from the glass. His only sadness was that Sam couldn’t be there to share it with him.
Heavy footsteps were approaching from a nearby hallway.
After he finished, he admired the blinking red emergency lights above him and the hallway-spanning window to his right. It was the only one in the whole spaceship; again, his luck was obvious.
Then he raised his gun and waited. He wouldn’t succumb to that thing without giving it the taste of pain: he imagined it tasted similar to licorice.
R.NS is a writer.
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