The computer at my Gravity XX station buzzes me. I click on the live feed, scan the crater. The Sea of Tranquility. I observe the astronaut, our explorer, descend from the lunar landing module as planned, on time. He strides the powdery surface to the pre-ordained spot, unzips the utility pouch on the leg of his space suit, unfolds a silver pole — stabs it into the pile of moon rocks. The astronaut grips the pole, waves at the camera. A flag unfurls. A white capital M inside a black square. I gasp. “I want my Medium.”
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