An (almost) one minute story. A school to extend a self-written haiku into a story. (Guess who didn’t want to write about lovely spring bloom.)
- setting: non-aeltarnen
- type: sci-fi
- lenght: 315 words
- characters: non-aeltarnen
The show of spring starts
Flowers bloom like fireworks
I’m looking at my grand-grand-grand-parent’s postcard, one of the few artefacts I have from the Earth. Is this what it used to be like? Green bushes, colourful petals as far as the eye can see. Unlike the vast red planes of the Mars. But we are going “home” tomorrow to claim what was rightfully ours.
I volunteered after my wife’s death last month. They say it was an undetected organ malfunction, but I know better. I know it was malnutrition. They are feeding us with a tasteless mash, which should cover all our needs, but I could feel myself the creeping weakness. The soil in our greenhouses couldn’t last forever to grow enough nutrition for all of us. We are slowly dying; that’s why they are sending us back.
Why did we leave the Earth in the first place? A nuclear war? A climate catastrophe? Who cares what they say. I don’t believe their sanctimonious propaganda. We are here on the Mars, that’s the only thing that matters.
Tomorrow I will see what is left of the home of our ancestors, what shards of future can the destroyed and abandoned planet offer to us.
My son comes to visit me for the last time. He is silently judging me with his hurtful eyes. Doesn’t he know that I do it for him? For HIS future? We stay in silence, there are no words to spare.
Sitting in a dark cabin of the carrier, I am quickly moving towards the Earth’s atmosphere. A small narrow gap shows me what distance separates me from the impact. Now is the time.
Rattling, crackling and moaning of metal barrier. An alarm noise indicates fatal damage of the carrier. I won’t make it. I am sorry, I will never see the show.