[ WP ] Aboard the International Space Station , looking back at Earth , you see atomic explosions detonating across North America .

David Easton had spent his life working meticulously towards where he wanted to be, where he found himself now. He had spent innumerable hours imagining what Earth looked like from space. He had seen it in pictures, of course, and it was beautiful - but he wanted to feel the vertigo of being 249 miles above his home. The first time he had seen the Grand Canyon in person, he sat perfectly still for thirty minutes immersing himself in its enormity. When he first drifted into the cupola in the ISS and saw the planet through its seven windows, he laughed to himself at that memory. The Grand Canyon was nothing more than a discoloration. 
 
 By day 131, David was sore for comforts of home. He hadn ’ t used a toilet without a seatbelt in over four months, he couldn ’ t stop thinking about fresh sushi, and his daughter graduated middle school on day 115. His yearnings were compounded by the looming holiday. He found excitement in being on the ISS for the 4th of July. NASA had planned a broadcast to be streamed online featuring David, the only American astronaut aboard the ISS holding a Q & A. He looked forward to anything that would break up the monotony. Just because his work was important didn ’ t mean it wasn ’ t dull. 
 
 David made his way to the cupola first thing this 131st morning, as he had done for the 130 prior mornings to wave to his wife, Selly, and their daughter, Erin. It took 92 minutes for them to make a full orbit, so if they had just passed and he missed it, he wouldn ’ t even bother and would just have to occupy himself with busy work until he could make his way over and say hello. Today, they were passing over the Pacific, with California - home - on the horizon. There were storms over the southern part of the state that he called home, and he watched as the lightning lit up small sections of clouds every minute or two. He waved to Selly and Erin, told them he loved them, and sat quiet for a while, thinking of them. 
 
 As he saw the Atlantic approaching, he realized how deep into thought he had gone. As he came to, he admired the sprawling infrastructure of Washington, D.C. It was a beautiful, clear day on the east coast, and the entire eastern seaboard was clear of clouds. 
 
 There was a flash, like the California lightning, but there were no clouds to provoke it. As if he were watching a time-lapse of a fungus growing through the soil, the mushroom cloud grew. Then, the Atlantic. 
 
 He hurried to establish communications with ground control in Copenhagen, but all means of communication were dead. Washington was the genesis, but whatever was happening was global. The astronauts aboard the International Space Station were completely alone, hovering between Earth and eternity. 
 
 David spent an anxious hour doing the only thing he could do - watching through the cupola for explosions. David ’ s captain, Oleksey had come and sat in silence as they passed over Russia. He saw the clouds over Moscow, and returned to his quarters without a word. 
 
 As they came back up on California, all of his worst fears were realized. One constant, hideous beige color blanketed the foreseeable land mass. He wanted to throw up, he wanted to cry, he wanted to scream, but nothing happened. The shock was too deep, all he could do was stare. He thought of Selly and of Erin, and his heartbeat raced until he could hear it in his head, feel it in his chest. It continued until he couldn ’ t catch his breath, and only then did the tears break through. 
 
 Nothing they did mattered now. There was no work to be done. The only thing David had to do was cry. He sat in the cupola crying with bouts of dry heaving for hours. He hadn ’ t thought of food, or toilet, or NASA, or Washington, or Oleksey, only of his girls. After a time, he started to feel a deep anger well up inside him. He became angry at mankind. At how trivial, how petty, how silly a thing nuclear weapons were. How could humans hate each other so deeply? Over some dirt, some grass, and some currency? 
 
 It didn ’ t take long before he made his decision. He donned his suit, gave his body the time it needed to adjust to the pressure and the oxygen levels, and he exited through the Quest airlock for his final spacewalk. 
 
 He did n't bother tethering himself, he planned to get as far away from the ISS as possible. When he exited, he was 249 miles above Europe. *Some mercy in all of this*, he thought, *I don ’ t have to see them*. He looked out over all of Europe, northern Africa, and western Asia, and for the first time in all this, he marveled at the chaos. All of it - all of human history, millions of years of evolution and true, true magic coming to a close in a matter of hours. Fireworks. 
 
 David Easton watched the world end through the eyes of God himself. 
 
 He looked out over his former home one last time, turned towards the void, towards the hope, towards the infinite possibility of space, and removed his helmet.
