Return

He drew in a deep breath. Not just an ordinary breath. The scrubbed and carefully mixed air flowed down into the very depths of the alveoli of his lower lungs, and in fact seemed to flow all the way to the tips of his toes, although he knew that his heightened emotional state caused that sensation rather than the true function of his body.

He sensed those behind him were becoming impatient and yet he would not be hurried. This was too momentous to be rushed and this man was going to savor every millisecond; this would not occur in his career again, though he hoped the equivalent, millions of miles away, would happen in his lifetime. He let the deep breath out slowly, as slowly as possible, one molecule at a time he imagined as he laughed at himself for his over active imagination, fired by what he was about to do.

And then he released the latching mechanism and gently pushed the hatch open. Despite himself, he drew in a quick breath and quickly rebuked himself for it. He had a reliable and controlled air supply he told himself. Stop letting your feelings carry you away! You have to keep your wits about you...or you might really mess this up, or hurt someone.

Slowly he exited and caught his breath as the vista grabbed his complete attention. The landscape was incredibly beautiful, more than he'd imagined even though he'd poured over and over photos. Totally dead and yet so alive with exquisite detail, gleaming in the unfiltered sunlight. And the sky, not black as he imagined. It was quite dark, of course, but not a color he'd call black. That seemed so flat compared to what his eyes beheld.

Forcing himself to be slow, rather than hurrying as his nagging feelings told him, he stepped carefully out on the ladder and began his descent, planting a foot securely on each rung to be certain he didn't take a tumble. No, that would never do, to fall down the ladder with so many millions of people watching. Besides, it gave him a chance to study the gently rolling hills in the near distance.

Finally he stopped at the bottom and involuntarily drew in one more breath before he stepped off. What would he say? He'd thought it through hundreds of times during his training, but compelled himself not to prepare anything in advance. All the phrases he carefully crafted sounded so dull and trite, no matter how clever and erudite he tried to be. No, he was going to ad lib the words as his foot brushed the soft grey surface.

He planted a foot on the moon for the first time in over 50 years and quietly sighed, "We have returned."