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I write this sitting in the Kitchen Sink. I know, it is a terrible name for a star cruiser but it was the best I could negotiate. The captain originally wanted to name it Toilet Bowl. I don’t know what his obsession is with those humanoid antiques, but at least I was able to salvage a small amount of dignity for our crew.

It gets lonely out here sometimes. Okay, it really gets lonely a lot. Wouldn’t you feel that way if you were flying for months at a time from place to place, with no contact outside of your captain and crew? It doesn’t take long before everyone settles in to their boring routines and the conversation grows bland. In an attempt to regain some sanity, I have decided to keep a chronicle of some of our voyages.

I suppose the place to start would be where it all began, back on my home planet of Triborak III. I didn’t want to fly out in space. I always wanted to raise pthoolas and farm the land, like my father. The captain says that pthoolas remind him of the sheep on his planet, although he says they don’t live off bone marrow and that they have white wool instead of fluorescent pinks and yellows. Those must be odd looking creatures. Anyway, my dad didn’t want me to be stuck toiling in his profession. He had always dreamed of seeing other planets and flying in the stars, so he placed me in the flight academy at a young age.

And that was where I met the captain. He was a humanoid refugee from the Milky Way galaxy, one of the last survivors from the Earth apocalypse. He always had the sort of personality that drew others to him. When you got to know the guy a little better, one of two things seemed to occur. Either you really liked the guy and became best friends, like me, or you wanted to punch him in the face. Unfortunately for the captain, most girls chose the latter option.

I could tell early on that he was destined for greatness. He had two passions in his life at the academy: flying and learning the history of his home planet. The first has led to many fantastic adventures aboard the Kitchen Sink, saving our hides more often than there are stars in the skies. The other led to countless laughs, like the time he made roller blades to travel around the ship. Let’s just say zero gravity didn’t go well with that invention from his home planet.

The captain barely graduated from the Academy, thanks to his high marks in flying and his ability to convince others to let him look at their assignments. He conned me on more than one occasion, and looking back I’m glad he did. In spite of the long stretches of idleness and boredom (which usually lead to overeating), my life so far has been a good one. Maybe my father did know best when he forced me into the Academy.

Of course, I usually think that during these slow times, when I can reflect on our adventures. But if you were to ask me in the middle of being chased by Zebrulean bandit raiders or being lowered into a pit of flesh-eating slugs, I might give a different answer. But somehow the two of us seem to come out of every adventure with our lives, no matter how close the call. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for the rest of our ship’s crew.

At first we thought it was our own carelessness and bad luck that we usually returned from a mission alone. We spent several years being cautious, looking out for the crew members every step of the way, but they still found unexpected ways to meet their untimely death. Then we tried going to several specialists, hoping to untangle the curse on the Kitchen Sink’s crew. That didn’t work, either. Those crews managed to die in record time.

So now it has become a sort of a game for the captain. It is rare to find anyone who is accustomed to the old Earth customs, and the majority of new hires come aboard willing to do anything the captain asks to try and win his favor. I will never forget the crew that he convinced to wear underwear outside of their spacesuits. We had many laughs at the expense of that team.

Our current crew is being forced to talk in an old dialect from earth. The captain calls it Middle English, which is really just a bunch of saying “thee, thou, and thy” when talking to each other. Tonight there is to be a joust in the mess hall. He even imported Krullian armored harts for the event. Their presence definitely is making the crew nervous.

When we made our stop the captain also brought me these archaic tools. He heard me say once that we should chronicle our greatest adventures, and this is apparently how his people used to do it. I must say that it seems to be a lot more work than recording a digipod, but he insists that this is the only method I’m allowed to use.

The crew is calling for me to come and join them for the start of the first ever Kitchen Sink jousting tournament. I suppose I should go and share in the merriment. Anything to get them to stop saying “thou art making us tardy with thy lack of haste”. Here comes the captain, grinning like crazy. I guess this is

– END ENTRY 001 –

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This is my entry in the return of the Master Class writing prompt. This was a fun one, and it has been great seeing an influx of new people taking part in it already. This is certainly something I could return to in the future, depending on motivation and the overall reception this gets.

This prompt was to use the first sentence of Dodie Smith’s book “I Capture the Castle”. The line is I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. Come and join us for the Master Class and share your own story from that prompt.