My time alone became less and less about the loneliness. At first, I thought it would be the perfect venue to vent any frustrations or to, you know, just yell without feeling subconscious about others hearing me.

Floating in space gave me that control within control thing I’ve been looking for. Drifting in space allowed my thoughts to go completely uninterrupted. Drifting and floating. My ship was comfy. It was a one-seater, basic build, and average thrusts, but its pod-like and condensed nature, no bigger than an common car, it was the nicest spot with the best view.

When I first flew it out of the galaxy it was a sight beyond anything I’d ever seen in my long lifetime. After the hundredth time–

Who am I kidding? The image of a swirling helix of stars and planets never got old. Every time my eyes scanned over the smeared nebulae and shining dots, there was a sense of calmness. Some are intimidated by the size, of how small life is compared, but I found solace instead. It reminded me how chaotic life is, whether it followed the rules of normal life or grandeur, unstoppable nature of deep space. I just wanted to drift forever.

The beeps of my ship performing scan after scan was the only noise beyond the grown of my bed-like chair. The steering wheel, a half circle divided at the top and bottom, was surrounded by constantly blinking lights. Each one’s meaning ground into my memory since the first time I set my attention on this type of vessel. It breathed with me, it performed at I wanted–it had become part of my life blood.

So the second the computer locked on to a particular signal, I was punching the throttle as far as it would go. No time to waste. And with this ship, I could reach the destination across the universe in milliseconds.

The stars turned to oblique streaks. My body distorted with the cockpit as I grew closer to planets and other celestial bodies. Took a detour to avoid a few Sinkholes. A peaceful trip that somehow became more quiet than the deepest reach of space. And, of course, with the customary flavor of grape–the taste of dark matter powering every doodad and bobble head on my dash.

My landing was perfection. I sat the ship down about a mile out from my destination, hid it among some tall grass. Crops littered the planet for miles, and centered around one poor gray back’s dwelling. He was nowhere to be seen. Most likely busy with some aspect of his farms. I crept through the fields as slowly and quietly as possible. Each creep through the thick brush brought me a clearer picture.

There! I saw my bracelet. MY bracelet. MY property. I wasn’t going crazy. A lot of my friends and family told me not to worry about it, but no, I would never. Not in this lifetime. Not in my previous. Not in the next.

A swift jaunt to the man’s porch, and my fingers clasped around the chiseled, jeweled ringlet. It felt like home once it closed around my wrist. I stood in that silence a moment too long.

The door to the subtle cabin cracked open. A fifteen foot beast, nine arms, hunched, and riddled with scales, turned the front of his house to tinder.

“That’s mine!” It roared at the top of its lungs–three pairs. The fields swayed at his command and locked down the area.

“Bullshit!” I yelled, flipping him off in the process.

That got his artificial blood boiling. Literally. You could see the green muck sizzle under his translucent skin. The beast barreled forward, crashing through his porch like it was paper. I backed up quickly, removed my bracelet, and showed the creature exactly the power of the item he’d unwittingly stolen. A common thief would never own my five hundredth birthday present. It came from my parents. A gift so I’d never forget my true ancestry, essential to me living my adventurous existence.

The monster stopped dead. Emphasis on dead. The jewels crafted into the loop of the bracelet lit afire, absorbed the time around the charging animal. Until he shriveled to dust and went aloft with the wind.

I experienced his soul being pulled into the bracelet. I flicked an azure colored diamond fixed to the underside.

A ghostly image projected into the sky. She watched as the grey mass expanded a few feet from her wrist. When she rose her hand and allowed the opal sphere to expand, its size magnified exponentially until it was its original size again.

It was bigger than she remembered. The gray back had been getting cheeky. He’d been feeding the bracelet.

And now my moon was four times its usual size. It hung and loomed in the sky like an impossible balloon dimpled with craters and dull dust. It seemed as if it could fall any second and sandwich me into the tiny moon at my feet, soon to be a new piece to my collection.

I sighed in relief knowing this moon was back in my possession. Earth wouldn’t miss it. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to lose track of it again.

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Next prompt: Accidental black thumb.