40 lines
1.3 KiB
Markdown
40 lines
1.3 KiB
Markdown
|
---
|
||
|
date: 2019-10-02
|
||
|
title: "Inktober 2019 #2 - Story and poem courtesy of Sariya"
|
||
|
---
|
||
|
|
||
|
[![inks](/blog/inktober/2019-10-02.jpg)](/blog/inktober/2019-10-02.jpg)
|
||
|
|
||
|
### The Europan
|
||
|
|
||
|
Dim light of distant suns.
|
||
|
|
||
|
Salt-slush of silent seas.
|
||
|
|
||
|
Gravity: a tension of sorts, tidal.
|
||
|
|
||
|
Deep vents, temperature gradients, hot, cold, hot, cold hot.
|
||
|
|
||
|
Fermentation. Combustion. Digestion.
|
||
|
|
||
|
It had so many ways to keep going, to stay powered, to stay alive. All those failsafes and backups, redundancies well into the double digits. Piezos, catalytics, photovoltaics, turbines, even a very efficient stomach, all in perfect working order, all ready to snap into action.
|
||
|
|
||
|
And yet it still prefered the dim light of distant suns to remind it why.
|
||
|
|
||
|
-----
|
||
|
|
||
|
<div class="verse">The eighteenth whisker on the left is brown.
|
||
|
I know this after countless nights awake
|
||
|
beside you, watching every quiet breath.
|
||
|
You puff your whiskers out on every yawn.
|
||
|
On longer work-filled days, your whiskers wilt,
|
||
|
exhaustion softening your features, sleep
|
||
|
exerting subtle gravities to lead
|
||
|
you to oneiric seas and dreamlike sands.
|
||
|
I know this after countless nights awake.
|
||
|
I know, I know, it's strange to watch you sleep,
|
||
|
but when I can't, to know that someone can...
|
||
|
at least it somehow lets me rest in turn.
|
||
|
When I lay beside your sleeping form
|
||
|
I know there's rest to still be had for me.</div>
|