14 Seconds: Short Fiction
14 seconds of oxygen left. She pulled at the airlock handle again. It wouldn’t budge. She could feel the heat of the flames behind her and the ringing of the damned klaxon was boring into her skull and the handle wouldn’t budge, because of course it wouldn’t, and the klaxon wouldn’t shup up. 13 seconds of oxygen left. When she was 12, she wanted to ride horses. She knew it was a cliché even then, but it didn’t deter her. She wasn’t the princess type, she didn’t dream of elegant gowns and fancy ballrooms and Prince Charmings, but horses? Absolutely. The more horses the better. Not riding side saddle with a stiff back and “proper” air, though. That wasn’t her. She wanted to ride horses…
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