Small Things, by E.A. Fow
Small things made her feel desperate. Strapped to her chair, fully encased in her flight suit and helmet, the countdown clock speeding towards lift off didn’t bother her. She never thought about the impending g-forces which would crush her forwards to back, upwards to down then painfully release her. Instantaneous immolation if the engines exploded didn’t worry her, nor the myriad and worse possibilities of lingering death caused by any of the vast array of complications that could result from rocketing into space. However, the itch on the side of her helmeted nose tormented her. She could not bear it.
E.A. Fow is originally from New Zealand but lives and writes in Brooklyn, NY. Her stories have appeared in various print and online publications including Imagination & Press’s Cartography, Penduline, Luna Station Quarterly, and Fiction365. Links to these and other stories be found on her website, EAFow.com.