runner up in heather hubler's 'write me a letter' challenge
64/787/14 s.d. (standard dating)
Hello, Lover
We don't write letters as we used to, people, I mean. There is something about it that feels tragically romantic, words meant for someone who may never read them. Still, I can't help but write them for you, hopelessly hopeful that they will find you someday, or, even better, that I will get to tell you of my adventures in person. They say that you don't know how much you love someone until they are gone, but I don't think that it is possible to love you more, yet still, you are gone.
I have much to tell you, because I have realized in your absence that nothing is real to me until I have said it to you, and beyond these words, there is no saying anything. I suppose I am trying to make this world without you real, to remember when I wake that you will not wake beside me.
You are calling me a pessimist, Lover, I can hear it.
Well, to that I have only this to say: In a conversation of which I have long forgotten the details, someone gave me this simple comment: ‘That’s kind of sad.’
I didn't know what to say then, it had never occurred to me before, and not until the conversation was long over did I gather my incoherent thoughts and realize my response.
Sometimes things are.
That's it.
Sometimes things are sad.
But I think that ignoring the sad things is to discount their cause, and so I will let myself miss you, I will be sad, because you are worth missing.
Is that so pessimistic?
I would like to think that I'd have left you speechless with this argument, but maybe I am wrong; you surprise me; sometimes I have no idea what you will say, and even when I do, the workings of your mind leave me speechless.
I took a job as soon as I could after you left. I thought it might distract me, but I never expected it to work. They call themselves the Daedalus Foundation and they pay well enough that I am almost afraid to question them.
They wish to send me to the Milky Way galaxy, the third quadrant, but they have been vague in revealing what it is they are looking for. They only speak of a map that must be followed and a treasure that must be found, and you know I can never resist a treasure hunt.
For now I remain in the city, but it is not the same without you. I walk past the car port in the South Business District, and remember us on that very first night, exploring away while the car charged only to find out the next morning that you had plugged into the only port in the entire lot that was out of order. You were so flustered and you kept apologizing, but I think we can agree that the day it took to recharge was not a day wasted.
I write to you from the middle of the night; it is around this time that I miss you the most. I never realized how lucky I was. After so long, I will have to relearn how to sleep alone, and sometimes I think that is the worst part.
Still, I like to think that each day is one closer to being with you again, and the thought keeps me warm on the coldest nights.
Forever yours,
V.
Human Evolution and Climate Change
The Question An oft asked question relates to how humans and every other species on the planet will or will not adapt to the new environmental conditions that climate change will quite probably (and arguably already has) impose across much of the globe. For other species the answer is fairly obvious, they will either adapt or they will perish. As has been the case throughout all of earth’s history, evolution through natural selection requires that those with the traits that are best adapted to reproduce will do so and so pass them on, especially when pressed by changes in the environment. Many argue that the changes we are seeing or will soon see as a result of climate change are occurring too rapidly for many species to adapt. In essence that evolution cannot keep up with the pace of change. Mutations simply cannot occur frequently enough to supply a wide enough variety of phenotypes of different varieties to allow for at least one that can survive the new conditions any given species may find itself in. Rapid changes are the hardest for the longest lived (excluding microorganisms), and slowest reproducing creatures to deal with, and they face the greatest threat of massive population decrease or even extinction. I happen to think that adaptation can happen much faster than is typically believed, but am not naïve enough to think that even a greatly accelerated adaptation or mutation process will be enough to save all or even most animal species from the threat of habitat loss or change brought about by global warming.
By Everyday Junglist17 days ago in Futurism
Gen Z Embracing Millennial Trends
It was a gloomy Wednesday afternoon in the town of Trendville, a place where the cutting-edge of pop culture met the age-old struggle of generational identity. The sky hung heavy with clouds, much like the unspoken competition between millennials and Gen Z. Little did the townsfolk know, an uncanny event was about to blur these generational lines forever.
By PoliSpeakHub6 days ago in Futurism
Comments (6)
Wistful, romantic, beautiful. I'm thoroughly charmed.
What a powerful letter. So much somberness in the voice, but so beautiful to see it unfold, too. LOVED this letter!!
love it! ❤️
Sometimes things are sad. So much truth to that short statement. This was really quite beautiful and bittersweet. I felt the sadness, the longing, the desperation to hold on to what was real. I loved this :) Wonderful work!
This is the magic of science fiction isn't it, to keep the humanity at the centre.
You made a science fiction romance feel like it's rooted in an earthy home-like garden. In any genre, if an author can make the story feel relatable and tenderly human, it's special. This is special. My favorite line is: "nothing is real to me until I have said it to you, and beyond these words, there is no saying anything." This made me nearly cry. What a beautiful letter, a beautiful display of love and longing, of having a Lover, of feeling like you're a universe away but can still feel their skin. I really adore this - wonderful piece.