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Photo Courtesy of Fandango

It had been so long.  The burns in the earth were gone, as were the cargo modules.  Yet Harold’s tree was still there, surrounded by gnarled branches.  It wasn’t much to look at, but there was a time when it had been home.

When they’d landed, the rain had been unrelenting.  Water streamed down his face as he strained to read the markings on the supply crates.  They were short on tents, on stakes; many were lost with a module that had burned up entering the atmosphere.

That night, soaked to the bone, he’d shivered beneath a tarp hastily lashed to those twisted limbs.   It was leaky and cold, far from his gleaming apartment on Earth, but on a stormy night on a strange world, it had been heaven.

Now, years later, their world had changed.  A teeming city of glittering skyscrapers rose behind him, less than a kilometer from Landfall park.  He had a new apartment now.  But it wasn’t home.

This tree, this was home.

Written for the  FFfAW Challenge for the Week of January 9, 2018.  Word count: 171.  Read other stories based on this prompt at InLinkz.com.

19 thoughts on “Home

  1. I can totally relate to this. Sometimes the safe harbor during a storm, no matter how humble, is the most homey of all. Great to hear their colony developed even after such a difficult start.It’s good to see someone else writing scifi.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Every day our technology advances by leaps and bounds, and it’s safe to say that when colonizing space the ability to rapidly establish a colony would be crucial. That being said, there’s a reason I was intentionally vague in terms of how much time had passed.

      Liked by 1 person

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