The Girl Without a Spacesuit

Outside the viewport of my spaceship, a young girl clung. Instead of a spacesuit, she wore a daisy-print shirt and blue shorts. She breathed, but how? We were in space. She should either be gasping for air or frozen solid. Instead she smiled, waved, and gestured towards the airlock.

Should I let her in? Was she real, or a delusion? If real, she had to be an alien, even if she appeared human. Had she modeled herself after a memory pulled from my mind? I didn't recognize her image, but perhaps she was a mashup of girls I'd known.

She seemed friendly, but was that genuine or a trick? Did she plan to kill me? Eat me? I wasn't in any kind of distress, and my tiny ship was self-sustaining. It didn't seem worth the risk, despite my curiosity.

I ignored her, but she moved into the view of whichever direction I faced. Eventually, a sad expression replaced her smile. After many more hours, she pushed away from my ship, and drifted in the emptiness of space.

I watched as her small body vanished.

It would have been nice to have someone to talk to.