Maanlander

A three-person crew touches down. The base hits the ground, monolithic blocks, black and reflective, with clipped corners. A chunk of meteorite, or a gleaming machine. Heavy and hovering. Gravity holds no sway here.

Above it floats a hexagonal tabletop. Warm wood, because that’s where the people are, with their hands and their minds. Three of them. Seated in a triangle, they can talk and see each other, without screens in the way. The monitors sit at the centre, on a raised circle that swallows all the cables.

Someone spills coffee. A plant needs watering. Life carries on across the plain. It finds its way, in the moon lander.