‘Can you make this wine dance?’
We all looked at him. He was laughing, almost audaciously. Beneath the gloss of courage there was perhaps an undercurrent of desperation.
The mission had failed. But he was not was willing to accept the failure. We had lost track of the time. We knew that soon the nights will become interminable. We could not delay our return any further.
He looked back at us without any sense of despondency.
‘I know what you are thinking, but I can’t help myself. This itch to win does not, unfortunately, desert me. But I can’t make you pay for my foolhardiness. You can all leave before the warning bell goes off. Please begin the preparations, quickly’
He walked out of the lab; there was an unnatural spring in his footsteps. We knew that we could longer stand there and wait for him to rethink. It would be easier to make the wine dance than to convince him to reconsider.
We all began preparing for our journey back to Earth. But we were not sure whether we would eventually leave without the man who had, by his umpteen daring deeds, won our respect and loyalty.
A post for Sunday Photo Fiction on a photo prompt and
Word prompts-mission, willing, lost, track, sense, gloss, itch, nights, bell, pay, spring, stand.
Word count 199