Home box recovered from the cockpit of one ship “Riding Hood,” in the 51st century, AD
A wibbly wobbly time ago,
in a galaxy no man/woman has gone before,
there lived in deep space
a little red ship who spent her days
wandering the farthest reaches of the galaxy.
Her needs were simple;
With a little fuel in her basket
she could traverse the wilderness of the unknown –
a darkness they called
“the home of the wolf.”
The people inside the ship
would wile away their time
trying to find a way
to feed the hungry beast.
Although the crew would
lie, cheat and steal to please her,
when the machine – aptly named
“Riding Hood” – was satisfied,
she would eat up the trampoline of general relativity
like a competitive digester of spacetime.
On the fateful day when the flight recorder was ejected –
the safety net that mentions the cause if death
in the event of a disaster –
the collected shipmates decided to stake their lives on a recording
they intercepted from the grandmother galaxy.
The transmission suggested there may be evidence
of “real estate” orbiting a “Home Star Cluster,”
which anyone knows means that
there’s a constellation open for the taking.
Without hesitation, the brave captain of Riding Hood
fired up her engines and set off at
greater-than-lightspeed to attend the free for all.
Through the Black Woods of stardust they ventured;
after hours of parsec after parsec
flying past the rear view mirror,
the red spaceship decelerated off the highway of dark energy
where the sleepy crew could
stay at a rest stop for the evening.
After telling the innkeeper their destination,
he sent them to bed with an explanation
of “That’s a bad neighborhood.
Beware the Wolf.”
They did not heed his warning.
In the morning, Riding Hood
ventured once more into the deep space forest
to seek her fortune.
Little did the astronauts aboard know
that Grandmother’s House,
which they were so desperate to reach,
was swallowed up by a Big Bad Black Hole eons ago.
When the scarlet ship slowed enough to see her mistake,
she was already way beyond the event horizon.
The crew didn’t have time to scream.
They could not even get out
“what an infinite density you have;”
the wolffish appetite of the void swallowed them whole.
They were spaghettified in as much time
as it takes to swear in Chinese.
The lone survivor: A Captains Log
that travels by Hawking Radiation.