Author : Duncan Shields , Featured Writer
I wake up from a dream about bookshelves and the answers to life. The sheets are damp with sweat and tangled around me. I sit up and look around at my dark room, allowing my eyes to adjust. The stars twinkle outside my living quarters window.
Iâ€™m one of the few people here who remembers life on Earth.
I fumble a cigarette out from a pack on the bedside table and wonder for about the hundredth time why there isnâ€™t a twenty-four-hour kitchen on this station.
I stand by the window for a few minutes with the sheet wrapped around my shoulders like a cloak as I smoke. I look back at the bed and can still almost see the impression that Janet made after being there for six weeks. She hasnâ€™t been there for the last two nights and has no plans to return.
I am worried about how little I care.
I have no position of authority here but there is a certain mysticism surrounding the fact that not only have I been on a planet, but I’ve been on the very planet that birthed us as a race. To tell the truth, I remember very little about those days back on planet Earth but I donâ€™t let on.
I stand and smoke and look out the window and wait for the timers to turn on the morning lighting.