ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
On one midsummer evening, when the blue sun dipped halfway below the milky butterscotch horizon, when the dust devils raged red in the barren valleys below our city, when a familiar chill had settled in the zeolite-purified air, Grandfather told us a story.
My younger brother Finch and I lay side by side in our sleeping bags while Grandfather sat comfortably between the tanks of the water garden, the verdant blades of wheatgrass taller than he. The distant pink sunset illuminated the wrinkles on his gentle face. Cradling his ivory helmet in his arms, he leaned against the angular wall, and said to us:
“A long, long time ago—when science was not so advanced as it is today—our ancestors lived on another planet. They called this planet ‘Earth.’
“Earth was a beautiful place. There were vast, snowcapped mountains and golden canyons. There were navy seas and rich green plains where flowers of every shape and colour grew. Best of all, the planet was filled with more creatures than you could ever imagine. Great, scaly reptiles that prowled the lands. Birds with iridescent plumage that laid giant eggs. Furry mammals that leapt from tree to tree.” Outside the polycarbonate windows of home, I could see a cloud of dust brewing amongst the iron oxide craters, pelting the plastic screens with fine red grains.
“Our ancestors thrived on Earth,” Grandfather continued. Finch stifled a yawn while I sat still, listening with rapt attention. “Slowly, they began to learn the laws that governed their universe. They harnessed the power of electricity. They invented telephones and cars. They designed cities that glowed in a kaleidoscope of lights. They constructed buildings taller than the eye could see, so tall that they seemed to reach into the clouds and scrape the blue sky.
“But with creation comes destruction.” Grandfather’s deep voice turned somber, and he gazed at us unblinkingly. “Our ancestors polluted the Earth with their inventions. They waged violent wars that left the land bloody and infertile in the quest for more—more territory, more followers, more riches. The water became poisoned. The air became dirty and permeated with carcinogens. Many humans, along with other creatures, perished from these unspeakable acts. The Earth became unlivable, destroyed by the greed of our ancestors.”
There was a profound silence, until I murmured, “And what happened then?”
The dust devils outside had ceased their roaring. Next to me, Finch had already fallen asleep, his arms suspended above his chest and his golden lashes fluttering. “They fled, so to speak.” Grandfather heaved a bitter sigh, seemingly lost in thought, and climbed into his own sleeping bag on the metal tiles. “That’s enough for today. Time for bed now,” he muttered, despite my wide, pleading eyes.
I lay awake for a long time after that, trying to imagine as clearly as possible a world that wasn’t crimson and desert. Smooth green grass I could lie down upon. Endless blue oceans, cool and salty. Blindingly white snow in the winters. Animals as companions, not prey. Warm sunlight and fluffy strands of clouds travelling lethargically across a clear sky. Lush fruits picked fresh from trees with leaves as broad as Grandfather’s palms. Collecting pearly seashells and skipping stones with Finch, hot sand between my toes. And above all, I imagined that I would experience all of this without having to wear my spacesuit. For the first time in my life, I would be able to feel spring breeze on my skin, to run freely down hills and meadows and rocky paths, unhindered by the bulky technology that my life depended on here on Mars.
I slipped out of the nylon covers and bounded across the room to the great telescope fixed on the east wall, a long aluminum tube on an altazimuth mount. After fiddling with it for a while, I could finally see it: a lonely spot of bright white amongst the spattering of stars in the inky heavens. From here, Earth didn’t look like she had been ravaged by the very humans she had cared duly for.
“When I grow up, I want to be an astronaut,” I whispered in the darkness to no one in particular.
Across the room, Grandfather tossed and turned in a dreamless sleep. Bathed in the light of the constellations, he seemed older than ever.
My younger brother Finch and I lay side by side in our sleeping bags while Grandfather sat comfortably between the tanks of the water garden, the verdant blades of wheatgrass taller than he. The distant pink sunset illuminated the wrinkles on his gentle face. Cradling his ivory helmet in his arms, he leaned against the angular wall, and said to us:
“A long, long time ago—when science was not so advanced as it is today—our ancestors lived on another planet. They called this planet ‘Earth.’
“Earth was a beautiful place. There were vast, snowcapped mountains and golden canyons. There were navy seas and rich green plains where flowers of every shape and colour grew. Best of all, the planet was filled with more creatures than you could ever imagine. Great, scaly reptiles that prowled the lands. Birds with iridescent plumage that laid giant eggs. Furry mammals that leapt from tree to tree.” Outside the polycarbonate windows of home, I could see a cloud of dust brewing amongst the iron oxide craters, pelting the plastic screens with fine red grains.
“Our ancestors thrived on Earth,” Grandfather continued. Finch stifled a yawn while I sat still, listening with rapt attention. “Slowly, they began to learn the laws that governed their universe. They harnessed the power of electricity. They invented telephones and cars. They designed cities that glowed in a kaleidoscope of lights. They constructed buildings taller than the eye could see, so tall that they seemed to reach into the clouds and scrape the blue sky.
“But with creation comes destruction.” Grandfather’s deep voice turned somber, and he gazed at us unblinkingly. “Our ancestors polluted the Earth with their inventions. They waged violent wars that left the land bloody and infertile in the quest for more—more territory, more followers, more riches. The water became poisoned. The air became dirty and permeated with carcinogens. Many humans, along with other creatures, perished from these unspeakable acts. The Earth became unlivable, destroyed by the greed of our ancestors.”
There was a profound silence, until I murmured, “And what happened then?”
The dust devils outside had ceased their roaring. Next to me, Finch had already fallen asleep, his arms suspended above his chest and his golden lashes fluttering. “They fled, so to speak.” Grandfather heaved a bitter sigh, seemingly lost in thought, and climbed into his own sleeping bag on the metal tiles. “That’s enough for today. Time for bed now,” he muttered, despite my wide, pleading eyes.
I lay awake for a long time after that, trying to imagine as clearly as possible a world that wasn’t crimson and desert. Smooth green grass I could lie down upon. Endless blue oceans, cool and salty. Blindingly white snow in the winters. Animals as companions, not prey. Warm sunlight and fluffy strands of clouds travelling lethargically across a clear sky. Lush fruits picked fresh from trees with leaves as broad as Grandfather’s palms. Collecting pearly seashells and skipping stones with Finch, hot sand between my toes. And above all, I imagined that I would experience all of this without having to wear my spacesuit. For the first time in my life, I would be able to feel spring breeze on my skin, to run freely down hills and meadows and rocky paths, unhindered by the bulky technology that my life depended on here on Mars.
I slipped out of the nylon covers and bounded across the room to the great telescope fixed on the east wall, a long aluminum tube on an altazimuth mount. After fiddling with it for a while, I could finally see it: a lonely spot of bright white amongst the spattering of stars in the inky heavens. From here, Earth didn’t look like she had been ravaged by the very humans she had cared duly for.
“When I grow up, I want to be an astronaut,” I whispered in the darkness to no one in particular.
Across the room, Grandfather tossed and turned in a dreamless sleep. Bathed in the light of the constellations, he seemed older than ever.
I'm just a young girl with an impossible dream.
Any constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks for reading. :>
Any constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks for reading. :>
© 2015 - 2024 dreamelancholia
Comments9
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Part of me wonders if this is really science fiction, and not premonition.
Very well written. It was cute story; kind of an old cliche with a new twist (dreaming of going into space to visit Earth).
Very well written. It was cute story; kind of an old cliche with a new twist (dreaming of going into space to visit Earth).