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The Story:
The moon wasn’t out that night. It had been the Earth’s companion for so long that it couldn’t bear to watch us suffer, so it turned its face away. We may never see our friend again.
I remember being prepared for weeks in advance. Some friends and I had managed to secure placement in a local underground bunker, but I couldn’t stay inside. I had to watch it happen. The impact zone was on the other side of the planet anyhow.
We had sent crews into space when we discovered it a few years out from us. Nuclear detonations, course adjustments—nothing had any effect on it. When the last of the United missions failed, every country began survival preparations.
I waited just outside the door to the bunker, watching the night sky. We all knew it was about to happen, but the magnitude of the destruction that would take place was too big to grasp.
It was almost 11p.m. A fireball appeared in the sky, overpowering the light of the stars. It raced across the atmosphere with a deceptive beauty. When it struck the ground in China, I felt the Earth shudder at the sudden loss of millions of lives.
Immediately after the impact, I rushed inside the bunker. I don’t know how long it took the dust to fill the atmosphere, but it’s been over 10 years since the meteor hit us, and the dust is still blocking the sun. We are struggling to stretch out our food supplies, and it’s always brutally cold.
Some are hopeful. They act as if everything will magically fix itself, and we’ll be able to waltz outside and plant crops in the sun. But I know the truth.
The Earth is sick, fatally wounded. She’s in a coma, and she will never awaken on her own.
But I have a plan.
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