No, no, no. I’m none of the people I’ve claimed to be in previous posts. Why are you writing under a completely different pseudonym every single day, you might be asking yourself. Well I’m trying to get to know the world a little better. One person at a time. 
   I’m an engineer at NASA and I’m compiling a list of stories from different people that we’re going to put into the next shuttle. I’m trying to write stories that represent the full spectrum of humanity, stories that uncover all manner of topics, stories that might appeal to an then entertain alien forms of life. I don’t know if they have book contracts on other planets but if they do I’d be happy to be their Earth author. 
    When I’m not writing, I work on the solar panels on the side of the space shuttles but usually I’m still thinking of stories . 


    After Mike eulogized the death of an unknown AIDS orphan in Africa right in the middle of their trifle, every single member of the family realized, as if they were all psychically synchronized, that something in him had indeed changed. Thomas put another spoonful of trifle into his mouth while he studied his brother’s face, searching for physical differences. Martha, Mike’s sister, thought of the gut bursting scene in the movie Alien and clenched her spoon as if it were a knife ready for defense. Mike’s mother and father prayed for his altered soul. Near the end of the speech which lionized a random child in Africa whose every breathe was heroic and good, Mike pulled out a map from beneath the table and stabbed his finger at a random country. “Botswana. Here’s a country which resembles the red of this very dessert. Of course this red is tainted with HIV. Lest we forget.”
     Mike bowed his head in a moment of silence that seemed to go on forever.
     Thomas, hoping to end the awkward silence, clanked his spoon on the side of his glass of water.  Other spoons followed until the room was a cacophony of clanks. Mike raised his head.
    “Seeing the earth as this little ball from space… Well it changes you.”
     Apparently, thought his sister.
     Mike poured water from his glass onto his plate and then lowered his face onto his dish. The water seemed to contract towards his eye while he made a blubbering sound into the plate. He raised his head while pushing water into his eye. “Certain bodily functions are reset and put into reverse. Zero gravity does weird things to the body and mind.”
   Mike started to feel the weight of everyone’s gaze.
   “I do however find that I can now enjoy mom’s singing in the kitchen.”
   And everyone laughed and laughed and laughed until the table and plates shook with the force of everyone’s relieved glee.