172 Hours on the Moon

by Johan Harstad

But looking on the bright side has a nasty habit of leading to disappointments.

He suddenly realized he was having trouble picturing his friends. He’d

already forgotten the shortest route between the Clemenceau Métro station and Lafayette, a route he previously could have walked blindfolded. Everything he used to be seemed to be disappearing, slowly but surely, from his consciousness. And it all was being replaced by the only thing that still meant anything: making it back home. Making it back home with Mia.