Lonely Planet

I marvelled at the handsome Macaw’s colourful feathers. He tilted his head to the left. His gaze fixed on me as if I was the one that didn’t belong there. Never mind that Macaws had long been extinct along with most of the other wildlife here. He sat in a tree, barren of leaves. The only speck of colour in a barren, dead, landscape. He spread his wings wide, and flew away. I watched him go. Frozen in awe.

I forgot to take his photo.

I rub my forehead with my hand. Must have been an illusion caused by toxic gas.

I trudge forward, the suit weighing down my legs, kicking up dust with each step. I trudged back to my ship. Once the door was closed, I pulled my helmet off, gasping for air. It wasn’t fresh air but still better than the stale oxygen pumped into my suit from a tank. I sat down, pulled out a hard biscuit. It was dry and tasteless. I drank some water. Then pulled out my notebook.

Day 143

I saw a macaw today. Whether real or not, it was nice to see a splash of colour in this grey world. Still no communication from the ship.

I only have another fifteen days worth of food. The plants are growing inside the ship, still, they won’t bear anything edible for another month.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. I had brought this on myself. I knew the risks before I signed up for this expedition. Unfortunately, I still wasn’t prepared for a crash landing and stranded. I had managed to send out a mayday message before I landed but there was no way of knowing when it would reach ship…if it would reach the ship.

The air is registering as “toxic.” Although the suit analyzer has assured me that I wouldn’t die right away if exposed. The radiation contamination in this area is low.

There isn’t much else to note. I replace my helmet. And head back out through the decompression chamber and outside. There are still a few hours of light left. I decided to head in the direction the macaw had flown. The sky is perpetually covered in a thick haze. The land reduced to barren, dusty, wasteland.

The tree, a lonely fixture. I pivot away from it.

I had grown stir crazy. Living each day the same. Nothing exciting, nothing new. The same experience lived every day in a controlled environment. Most people spent their days locked in virtual reality. Religated to beds and only coming out to keep their bodies alive. The virtual reality never interested me. Nothing interested me.

My only friend, Sam, had been lost to virtual reality. Transformed from the happy, bouncy, human being, to a dead eyed, shallow cheeked, skeleton. I shivered, remembering their smile that had been stolen away.

I knew staying on the ship would mean a slow suffering death. Even now, this seemed like a better slow suffering death. At least I got to experience something new.

And the macaw, so vibrant in real life. At home I could pull up a holographic reconstruction of any of the creatures that had once populated earth. I had access to all the environmental information. Which lead to my specialty in biology.

A useless set of skills and knowledge.

There were no real animals on the ship.

Humans had never learned their lessons no matter how many times they repeated the same mistakes. They chased a high, and escape, constantly. Even I did. Which is how I ended up here.

I couldn’t watch Sam decay before my eyes. Grow less interested in our life together.

Thunder booms over the land. A lightning storm. I spin around. I have wandered far from the tree. Far from my ship. The clouds gather.

I can’t make it back.

A squawck draws my attention. The macaw circled low in the sky. My feet start running on their own accord.

“Wait!” I yell.

I trip over my own feet. Scramble along the ground.

The lightning flashes behind me. The thunder rolls over me.

I roll over, chest heaving. Starring up at the sky.

The presence of the Macaw confirms that this place was once beautiful.

Beautiful like Sam’s smile, laugh, and deep brown eyes.

Humans destroy all beautiful things.