The Organised Author

Sol 2-- Mike



Sol 2—Mike

Just back from a day of hard work, collecting soil samples and fixing the oxygenator. The oxygen regulator released too much O2, and for a while Kristen, the only human in the crew, went all weird and hyperactive. She jumped around the ZAC at a speed that made me feel seasick. Gosh, she was fast, despite the fact that gravity on Mars is only 0.4. I didn’t mind it though. In fact, all her vitality and singing brought a smile on my face. And Kirsten is a beauty. Raven hair, blue eyes, heart-shaped mouth. I think I have a crush on her.

Gibba, our expert in chemistry, was drooling when Raven danced. Not because he finds her pretty, but her brain has to be delicious. All that happiness and energy give a sweet flavour to the brain cells, trust me. Never eat the brain of people when they’re sad. They taste like a drowned rat… not that I’ve ever tasted a drowned rat.  

Anyway, I had to keep an eye on Gibba, in case he came up with the brilliant idea of trying Raven’s brain. He isn’t the smartest one, and I’m not being nasty. The poor guy is physically the strongest of the team, but he has problems spelling his own name. In fact, we aren’t even sure that his name is Gibba. Maybe it’s Gabriel or Gordon, who knows. He’s over six feet tall with auburn hair and brown eyes that twitch now and then. Sometimes they roll inside his skull, showing all the white. Handsome Bob, Robert our communication expert, says Gibba is as ugly as duck.

And then there’s me, and I’m going to describe myself. Yes, because this is NOT a novel so I can totally do that. I have curled brown hair that not even the experimental centrifuge of NASA can make messier. One of my eyes is totally milky, which freaks out many people. But it’s not dead. I can see better from that eye. The other is chocolate brown. I’m pretty ordinary, but NASA chose me because of my brain, which is kinda ironic.  

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