Thomas was staring out his window. There were mountains in the distance, a bit of snow still managed to cling on, despite the warmer spring weather lately. The clouds were scudding past through a blue sky, but he didn't notice any of it. He wasn't thinking particularly about anything, but when his phone rang he was still irritated at the interruption.
"Thomas." he said into the phone.
"Boss wants to see you," the secretary said. Thomas detected a hint of warning in her voice.
"Alright. Thank you," he said calmly. Thomas felt it never hurt to be polite to people who had the ear of the boss.
Thomas turned back to his window briefly for one last glimpse of the outside world. He sighed as he stood up ponderously and left his office. As he wended his way through the office building to his boss's office he contemplated, for the zillionth time, what could have been. Or could be, he told himself, quietly, perhaps worried that the idea would spread. He didn't have to sit in his office, he could be out there, doing things with the others. He sternly brought himself up short. His wife. She liked the security of an office job. On this planet. She always made that point very clear. This planet. No gallivanting across the universe in search of excitement or risk or or money or fulfillment. Stay on this planet where you know you have a job and aren't going to be left stranded by one of the many fly-by-night corporations that sent you out there with a grand idea, some venture capital, and then oops! we don't have a valid profit scheme, so sorry; and there you were, stuck on another planet, forced to get by with wits and whatever supplies you had or could trade for . Thomas, in his more morose moments, could see her point. Yet, every day he found himself staring out the window toward the sky wondering, _what if_? What if he just chucked it all and signed up for an off-world assignment. He probably didn't have any relevant skills or knowledge, but he wouldn't let that stop him. Maybe as a kid he had read too many stories of the pioneer days. Stories of brave men and women forging a path to the stars with nothing but a shipload of parts and pieces, their wits, and a unshakeable belief in their abilities to take a new start and run with it. Sure, some of them died, but the ones that made it, _really_ lived. His wife didn't seem to understand that and he loved her and if not running off for adventure was the price to be paid for her, she was worth it. Thomas glanced out a window as he passed. So far.
"Thomas." he said into the phone.
"Boss wants to see you," the secretary said. Thomas detected a hint of warning in her voice.
"Alright. Thank you," he said calmly. Thomas felt it never hurt to be polite to people who had the ear of the boss.
Thomas turned back to his window briefly for one last glimpse of the outside world. He sighed as he stood up ponderously and left his office. As he wended his way through the office building to his boss's office he contemplated, for the zillionth time, what could have been. Or could be, he told himself, quietly, perhaps worried that the idea would spread. He didn't have to sit in his office, he could be out there, doing things with the others. He sternly brought himself up short. His wife. She liked the security of an office job. On this planet. She always made that point very clear. This planet. No gallivanting across the universe in search of excitement or risk or or money or fulfillment. Stay on this planet where you know you have a job and aren't going to be left stranded by one of the many fly-by-night corporations that sent you out there with a grand idea, some venture capital, and then oops! we don't have a valid profit scheme, so sorry; and there you were, stuck on another planet, forced to get by with wits and whatever supplies you had or could trade for . Thomas, in his more morose moments, could see her point. Yet, every day he found himself staring out the window toward the sky wondering, _what if_? What if he just chucked it all and signed up for an off-world assignment. He probably didn't have any relevant skills or knowledge, but he wouldn't let that stop him. Maybe as a kid he had read too many stories of the pioneer days. Stories of brave men and women forging a path to the stars with nothing but a shipload of parts and pieces, their wits, and a unshakeable belief in their abilities to take a new start and run with it. Sure, some of them died, but the ones that made it, _really_ lived. His wife didn't seem to understand that and he loved her and if not running off for adventure was the price to be paid for her, she was worth it. Thomas glanced out a window as he passed. So far.
