Back to Earth

Since the beginning of intelligent human collective thinking (which hasn’t been happening very long), philosophers have pondered upon the nature of  Time, saying this and that of its complicated workings and its tendency to happen regardless of any structure or more rudely, invitation. In fact, time just tends to pass in a distressing flurry of Boring Events. Many people get considerably annoyed by this. Space is connected to it and is in fact indistinguishable from time, according to a very clever Jewish guy with a mustache who knew lots of maths. This jumble of confusing ideas and physical laws is curved, they will tell you. But when you zoom out a bit, and look closely… it actually resembles a large trifle.

And Thus it Came to Pass, Major Tom floated to Earth though the space melange in a daze. His mind was groggy from the deep sleep his hibernation module had imposed on his dying body, but through his space suit’s electromagnetic receivers he had retrieved a few garbled, and many amusing, messages from home many thousands of miles below during his long, slow orbit. Curiously one had played an audio clip from the end of 1960s of a glam rock singer called David Bowie, playing a very cool song all about him and his supposed death 40 years ago. He was unsure. (Either way, the dude definitely had style.)

The final message that was projected into his helmet, as he turned himself with his anal-retro thrusters to face the big blue sphere he called home, was a written message from his mother dated a week prior to his reawakening in the present:

Dear Tom,
iam assumimg that you are either :
1. in prison
2 dead
3.penniless
4 being held hostage
5 have had your hands chopped off
6 lost your memory
7.there are no computers where you are.
Anyway if any of these apply you won’t be reading this,but if not then plese please get in touch

or I will have to send out a search party and I don’t know where to start.

Much love, your anxious mother xxxxxxxxxxx

Somewhat taken aback, Major Tom quickly considered the circumstances. Had she known of the space mission at all? How was it possible she could have missed the multitudes of media reports that would have followed in the wake of the mission’s disaster? And why the hell had she not bothered to be worried until today? This was one relaxed lady. Perhaps she was under the influence of something interesting.

Looking below he noticed the mighty subcontinent of India coming into the curve of his visor. He was drifting through the uppermost layers of the atmosphere now, a few satellites pinwheeling lazily some miles to the side. Hmmm.

Stretching his fingers, he composed his reply on his wristpad before turning towards what could mean either a fiery death or glory:

Dear Mum
The prison where I am staying in is really nice! They have looked after me from day 1.

The accommodation is simple but effective. The guards can be harsh sometimes but they always

let me out in the sunshine for a few hours to scrub the lice off my body, then we go inside for a

 sauna and a few beers together. When I arrived they gave me a vigorous all-over body massage

(with bamboo canes) but the bruises always heal in time! In the evenings I will check my emails

and so on before enjoying yoga with the other inmates, a 3 course meal of any international 

cuisine and a glass of Chateau de Neuve 1969 before we are packed back into our 30x20ft room of

180 people to be bitten by parasites all night.
Hope everyone is ok back home
Tom

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