Mosi hates the spaceport. He knows that business has been booming ever since it went up. But every hour, a rocket kicks up a sandstorm of grit and dust, and he has to scramble to cover his wares before the cloud reaches his outdoor stall. He’s spent a fortune cleaning and upgrading his gear to deal with the damage.
He wishes he could afford to hire an assistant, or better yet, get out off the surface and start again in the clean, sterile environment of a space colony. For now, he wrestles with his tarps, and dreams of the future.

Thanks for reading! For more Everyday Drabbles, Follow me on Facebook and Twitter, and you can support the project on Ko-Fi!

Advertisement