Maybe it was the length of time I’ve spent in the silence of space, but music has meant a lot to me these last 5 years. I’d gotten used to only hearing my own breath and cursing inside my helmet, no matter how much damage my blaster did. Music helped. Time for some Hendrix.
Gently, I pulled the record out of its sleeve and placed it carefully onto the turntable, where I delicately set the needle and waited for the unique sound of Hendrix guitar to fill the airwaves around me. If anything was going to help, it was Jimmy.
The notes slipped out of the groove, flowing from the gentle scratches of the needle. It was perfect. I focused and the water droplets began swirling upwards from the cup, forming a delicate fountain engaged in an almost hypnotic dance. Hendrix's guitar sound and the water met in
in the way waves reach a rocky shore, crashing then yielding to each other. They heat was suffocating but I was too mesmerized to leave. All I could do was take in the moment, sweating and swaying, swaying and sweating.
The cold was not just my fear. My whole body shivered and my teeth began chattering. A deceptively silky male voice came from just behind my left shoulder: "Imagine the warmth surrounding your body. The gelatinous lava envelopes you, comforts you. Why not go for a swim?"
Because, realizing that it would be my last swim. I know that feeling, the cold, shivering feeling. It was death creeping up on me and i didn't want to go just yet, so I told that voice "Not Today, mofo, i got some "sh*t to do."