(A drabble is a micro-novel exactly 100 words long, excluding the title)

At Home

My brother was a mere youth when he left our farm. A brief flash in the upper atmosphere, and he was on his way.

Numerous times he brought back mysterious alien devices, symbols, odd squirming creatures, recordings in never-heard tongues. I knew nought but my field at our home farm and the village around it; he conquered unimaginable distances and knew worlds beyond all my dreams.

"A continuous journey," I said. "How does it feel?"

"I do not know", he replied, his eyes at the dark, star-speckled vastness. "I have never stepped outside of this small home galaxy of mine."