Humanity came to this world long ago, driven from our home system by strife and interplanetary war. We came as a collective of geniuses, artisans, and tacticians without par. The best of humanity.
This world, pristine and untouched by intelligent hands, welcomed us eagerly. We established ourselves as a society of equals, and with it achieved scientific breakthroughs unparalleled in the Sol system. Our cities became the heirs to the philosopher-capitals of ancient Greece, and our laboratories created wonders that improved all our lives. Continue reading
The zebras were milling about like sporadic, sparse pianos bereft of an owner. The absence of music, long left played if not absorbed into emptiness, precluded the need. Their coats long left leaving like frail, windblown leaves remained to be polished; as such, a melancholy was to be stated, although the picture was yet unfinished. He knew that to be true. Without a remembrance, without recalling or even attempting that foray into memory, Farragan knew regret and knew its meaning. Continue reading
The Forest was a place with many fantastic legends. Such a reputation was only fitting, with its towering trees and pervasive shadows. Despite its mystery, and perhaps because of it, the Forest was home to hundreds of sleepy villages, each with its own collection of tall tales and history. In these villages, the cycle of life was most precious. Professions were passed down from generation to generation, for otherwise knowledge and traditions would die.
Gendric was a small boy no older than a centimoon who had never been to any village but his own, so he had little reason to think about these matters. All the cottages and shops of his community were made with the same deep, dark-colored wood that surrounded them. The village was built in the depths of the forest so that the sun barely shown down on the flat, crude rooftops, even on the brightest of days. Continue reading
Entry #253, Gaskin ARK 301524.
Gess seems more anxious than normal. Jimmy, Marilyn, and Edgar seem particularly sensitive towards them. Signing off.
Hello? Is this still working? Oh! Um, hey. So lots has happened… Michelle Gaskin ID 301524, citizen of the United States of America, um… resident of Florida, and… Earth. First entry since collapse. I don’t know who or what will find this, but I’ll try to explain. Continue reading
The desk was mahogany and varnished to the point where I could see the outline of my head. It had clearly come from some factory or other, probably in China. You could always tell when something came from someone, rather than something. You could run your fingers along the little ridges and divots, and it was almost like touching the weathered face of the man who made it. Touching his calloused hands, the hands of a real man. When you put your face real close to the wood, there was sawdust, and the sweat and the cigarettes on his breath. Smelling this desk, all I got was Clorox. Continue reading