I need your help to figure out a new title, so I'm going to paste a few excerpts from the story below to give you an idea of the aesthetic and plot, and you can share your title suggestions in the comments below.
For a moment, our vacant eyes hope to the observant stars that we are mistaken. But as we grow closer, we do not need the light of the sun to show us that there is no mistake. Earth is dead, and we are alone on the Warsaw just like we had been on the Ithaca, and like we have been for so long.
After eleven years wandering through space, the Ithaca no longer surprised us with its occasional breakdowns and malfunctions. The grimace that I felt on my face was rather from the tenseness of my husband's back and arms as he shivered again over the pump's interface. The falling temperatures and discomfort of the pressure suit were grating on both our nerves. I knew he was about to snap.
The Ithaca didn't even have proper long-range communication capabilities, meaning we were in the dark as to the status of Earth. Neither could we report anything back to Helios Galactic. This was enough to put us on edge after only a few months into our contract, which placed us in the Jupiter Trojan asteroid cloud.
By the end of the week, we were both seeking escape. The hallucinations were getting worse, and it was hitting Ulric hard. It was strange, not a circumstantial development of schizophrenia, but something we were always aware of. The sensations of others in the ship with us, of languages spoken with tin can telephones through the corridors and compartment walls, of reeling stars and fires in the heavens--all was as a whisper, something we knew was not of ourselves. This was not enough to comfort my husband, who drifted from reality little by little as the minutes progressed.
Jedd Cole is a professional writer and author of short speculative fiction. He resides in Ohio where he is completing a degree in Rhetoric & Professional Writing, crafting short stories in every time-nook he can find, all while frequenting the pages of imaginary worlds with his wonderful wife, Heather, and no pets. None.