Trying to decide what to wear for "business" purposes is difficult sometimes. I sighed and decided that this dress would have to do.
Glancing around the mediocre room (strange really, I would have thought that the accommodation would be better, after all, we are paying for the build of this vessel) I decided I'd leave the un-packing to do after the meet and greet at dinner later.
Checking how I looked in the mirror one last time, I headed for the door. It was rather heavy and I had to put more effort into it than I'd planned to open it. I heard the click behind me as I headed for the room of other "contributers" to the cause.
The room was big and open. There were quite a few people meandering around, talking to each other. Suddenly, I felt alone.
I spotted a hostess with a tray of drinks in one hand. Carefully, I made my way towards her and took a glass from the tray. I smiled and said thanks as I moved away to the side of the room.
I think I'm an observant person; well, either that, or I'm just nosey. Slowly I scan the room - looking for someone I might know or have heard of. There's nobody - yet. Oh well. I turn to face a window. Well, I say window: it's huge. Once we'd left the Earth's atmosphere, I hadn't had a chance to look outside.
The vastness of space made me feel so small and insignificant. It made me wonder - why do people care about image and what other people think? Why do we get wrapped up in tiny details, when really, we know basically nothing about what I can see right now?
They've obviously never seen this.
The stars are in their millions. This is something you could never see on Earth - the cloud is always too dense. The black nothingness that was, effectively, the background for this scene was pure and seemed thick and suffocating like treacle.
If only everyone at home could see this.