The ship’s heat resistant shields were struggling. He knew he was entering the atmosphere of this long dead planet too fast and at the wrong angle. Everything was flashing bright red or yellow and several alarms screeched their disapproval.
Movement to his right: damn!
He might not have wreaked his ride, but he’d failed to shake off the drone.
Shaking, juddering, grinding. A missile clipped the right wing.
He was going to crash. He fraught to pull up the nose, hoping to limit the damage.
He plunged into the sludgy brown water, where the city of London used to be.
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A 100 word story written by Bruce Arbuckle, inspired by the random word prompt “entry”
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Bruce Arbuckle (felt.buzz)
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