|Image courtesy of Victor Habbick / FreeDigitalPhotos.net|
By Nigel G. Mitchell
It's impossible to light a match in space.
That's what Nicholas Turner kept thinking as the cold of space penetrated his sabotaged suit, driving the temperature lower. He stared at the match in his hand, placed there by the rest of the starship's crew to taunt him. It would bring heat if he could light it.
He wondered if Gregor felt this way when Turner pushed him out of the airlock. But Gregor had died quickly, whereas Turner would die slow. He supposed that's what he deserved. He let the match float away as the chill crept into his bones.
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