Welcome to Last Ditch Station. That display? Stupid thing’s said “ALL CONDITIONS: RED” since I got here. The smell? Cooking and body odours of seven different species. Food court is down that hall – you'll eat standing up, no room for tables and chairs. Watch your step, sweeper bot broke down last month. OK, here's your sleeping cubicle, built for two, but you'll share it with five. Final advice: everyone here loves to spread rumours – don't listen, especially when they say the Reptilons are laying eggs. Sure, they say Reptilon hatchlings eat humans, but like I told you, rumours. Just rumours.
Author bio: William Eckman blogs about science fiction at Planetary Defense Command.
Home is part of 101 Fiction issue 8.