Sleep

I like the sound of my breathing.

In, out.

Especially in the suit. Captain doesn't like it when I sleep out here in the ship's cargo bay, doors open to the stars.

He knows I stay tethered. I use the umbilical, with the suits air as failover. So, I'm still connected to the ship, breathing cool ships air. But it still worries him.

That's ok though; it's his job, he once told me.

And so, I sleep in zero G. Curled up like a foetus, the umbilical floating next to me. The stars drifting past the open doors, shining bright.