The endless nothingness was daunting, the silence nearly deafening – or maybe it was just the sound of the blood rushing through the veins in his ears, as he was technically insulated from the vast silence. ‘Nothingness” wasn’t exactly the correct word for it, either, as there were 10 billion stars all within sight. But for as much as he could see, he would never be able to touch any of them. Not in a million years – and that was probably an accurate estimate. So, for all intents and purposes, it was nothingness. But god damn, it was beautiful.

He was well protected inside of his suit. Warm and airtight, with a spacious helmet with a reflective mirror-like coating to keep him safe. It wasn’t like those old “fish bowls” that they used to have to wear. They were too bright, allowed too much stimulation for their sensitive eyes to be able to appreciate anything that they were seeing. And, ultimately, it ended up ruining their eyes. This new model was a major improvement.

He was taking full advantage of the views offered, and he was enjoying the veritable smorgasbord of lights – stars, nebulas, far off supernovas - but there was one thing that dominated his attention, even over everything else. He had never seen it from Earth. It didn’t belong there. He knew the stars like the back of his eyelids, and he had never seen this. The far off constellation, many light years away, was daunting in its immensity, staggering in its color, and it seemed to be moving freely, in a way that was more than just the flicker of stars. It was as though it was watching him – though not in a malicious or sinister way. He just couldn’t snap the feeling that somehow this massive constellation was watching him. Following his movements, and his alone. It was like when you lock eyes with a stranger from across the room, it’s true that they could possibly be looking at anything, but you just know that they are looking at you.

He was mesmerized.

 “Ooooh,” he murmured, as he floated at the end of his tether. “ooh, ee ooohh ah, AAAHH!”

And, truthfully, there wasn’t much else to say. His radio crackled, snapping him out of his daze.

“Eeh eh AggAAAHh!”

The captain was right, he had a mission. He had to stay focused. He turned back to the ship, he had to checks to do and bolts to tighten. He grabbed the wrench and he turned the bolts. But his mind wandered back to the mystery in space. He turned around for one more glance, but it wasn’t there! He was sure that he had seen it, as surely as he could see his own two hands – which, to be fair, were gloved so he couldn’t see them at all - but the point still stood. He was certain it was there, and yet there was nothing.

Puzzled, her turned back to his work. Was he delusional? Was it a hallucination? Had he been in space for too long? At least he knew that this was real, the work was real, and he could feel his purpose in the tightening of the bolts. He felt secure. But he couldn’t focus. What had he just seen? It had to be real.

He turned back once more, just to be sure. Nothing. “Ooooh ahh uug uug, Ooaah!” he though, shrugging. A far away thought occurred to him. Perhaps he had just seen the face of the creator. Perhaps he had just met The Great Ape, himself.

The radio crackled once more. “Eeeh eeem aaaagh” He heard it, but he didn’t respond.

“Heeet eem aaaghan!” The radio started to fade away, and he didn’t seem too concerned.

“Heet heem aaagan!” But he didn’t respond.

“Hit him again! Again! Come on, damnit!” yelled the veterinarian to his assistant with the miniature electric paddles. But there was no response. The young monkey had already gone off to see the great monkey in the sky.