Category: Circe

Last Flight

I looked into the sky, and tears misted over my eyes as I watched the end of an era.

Above me was the Space Shuttle Discovery, riding piggy-back on a 747.

I remember the hope, the pride, watching Discovery launch. I remember thinking that I would be lucky enough to see terraforming begin on Mars.

I remember when we had that dream.

All that is now lost. Now, we hitch rides with the Russians.

We let others dream for us.Our heads are firmly planted in NOW.

Now where will we go, when we’ve finished destroying Earth?

Terminal

This story was written by Circe Broom, of Laurel Arts Island, what was once Second Life’s premiere showcase of music, poetry, and other arts.

Laurel Arts may be gone, but others inspired by her are carrying on her tradition of Circe’s Circle Radio excellence and dedication on the Second Life grid now.

Here’s her story.

Terminal.
That’s what they said to me.

I said… Okay. Now, what do I do?

Now, do I actually start to live the last of my life?
Now, do I believe I will die?

No. That would be too easy.

Now, I prepare for the death in which I do not believe, so that others won’t be caught by surprise.

I do not want to die.

Hospice is nice, they let me breathe better, now.

Now I lay me down to sleep.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
I pray that I will die in my sleep.

Amen.

Thank you for letting me read that Circe. I hope I did it right.

And, well, no need to keep it brief. Stick around for a while, alright?