(cont.)
Somewhere on her ship, her Anomaly Proximity Alert (APA) was blaring. It must have gotten scrambled during the crash, too. Figures. She took a deep breath. Maybe something was just causing interference. The asteroid looked like it was made of a strange metal—maybe that was why a signal couldn’t get out. Could she leave the asteroid? Not without a way to get back to her ship—or a way to bring her ship with her. Repairing her ship seemed to be her best bet. Alexa was no mechanic, but there were operating manuals stashed in the cockpit of her ship. She wouldn’t get very far without a real mechanic, but hopefully she’d get far enough away from the source of the interference to call for help. A continuation of yesterday's short story. My goal so far is to write at least a hundred words a day. Let's see how that works out. -Atlas
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