hallways

"Stan..."

The voice sounded distant.

"Stan... Wake up, Stan."

Pleasing voice, though. 

He woke up to reality.

Another long walk down
the hallway. Sometimes
he forgot to wake up and
the computer had to remind
him of the seriousness of space
(and time.)

At one point,
being who he was,
he'd calculated how
many hours, minutes
and seconds he'd spent
in the hallway on the
base on the moon.
It was a staggering
number.

And how many more before
the breakthrough leads to his
release from the prison rock
shadowing the Earth of his birth.

"Stan..."

Again? Already?

"Stan... Wake up, Stan."