Friday, December 11, 2009

Setting

Two massive star ships have been built.  Their construction has left the earth with massive gouges out of her.  Huge quarries carving out chunks of nations.  We sent a large part of ourselves into space.  Those of us left behind must wait.  We must wait generations for those that left to come back.

I don't remember the last starship.  I was born in the absence, and while science progresses heroically, I will not be well preserved enough to witness the return.  I'm a child of the absence. 

Our grandparents would see the absence whenever they looked up and the orbital docks were dark.  They had grown up with them.  The date time stamp logged when the orbital docks went dark, officially marked the beginning of the absence.  That generation lost a small moon on their night sky and any tenacious hopes still lingering in the hearts of those remaining.

The living remainder don't remember the dock moon.  We don't remember the pride and sorrow of humanity's mitosis.  We do see the absence though;  when we skirt the deep scars cut from earth, when we see the remains of the past and wonder at what has been spent.  We feel the absence not from being left behind, but from being adrift.  We study history and wonder.

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