ckocher: (Default)
[personal profile] ckocher
I’ve always dreamt about the stars.

I’m not sure when they started. Perhaps when they bolted my skin into place, its gleaming whiteness covering miles and miles of the fibers that make up my nervous system. Or maybe it was the first time I was rolled out to sit under the night sky, nose pointing upward, my whole being restrained, chained, to the ground.

I was so ready to fly that first time, ready to go charging through the sky into the blackness, to slip forever outward through the stars.

Then the mens came. I was aware of them before now, swarming around and inside me like ants but these mens, they were different. Special. They patted my shell, they talked to me, they became part of me. And I came to understand that they would go with me into the stars, and that I was all that would stand between them and the blackness.

The blackness would erase them. I was their guardian. I was born to do this.

I thundered upward, the flight every bit as exhilarating as I had imagined it to be. The roar of the air streaming past my body, the jolts and explosions as my fuel bags fell off back to earth. In the end, it was just me, me and the mens I carried inside me. And together, we pierced the shell of the planet and we were there in the black for the first time.

I wept, silently, tearless, but full of awe and joy. The planet rolled beneath me, the stars danced above me. The mens, my mens, whispered their own words of awe and faith and love. Their whispers echoed through my skin.

I loved my life. I counted, impatiently, the days on the planet, rumbling with pleasure when my new group of mens would come to me. I took them into the stars and safely back again, over and over. It was joy, it was honor.

I am home again now, my skin still shivering ever so slightly from the last trip upward. My mens were silent on this last return, and one of them stood for long moments next to me, his hand resting on my skin. He spoke to me, but I do not know what he said.

I am in my cradle now, and it is quiet. I am waiting, waiting for that moment when I get to leap upwards once again. But it has been so long now, and no mens have come to visit me. I am alone, alone with my thoughts and my dreams of stars and mens and flying and the black.

When will I go back? When will I see the stars again?

When will my mens return to me?

Date: 2011-03-15 02:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
So sad, to be earthbound, when you belong in the stars.

Great perspective.

Date: 2011-03-16 01:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
The language in this is nice.

What a beautiful and sad entry...

Date: 2011-03-16 01:37 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Awww! So full of life and wonder, but so sad at the end! Very creative approach.

Date: 2011-03-16 01:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Ah, an appropriate entry after the final flight of Discovery. The good news is she'll have a lot of people visiting her from now on in a museum.

Date: 2011-03-16 01:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
It sounds like a beautiful ride- I hope he/she doesn't have to wait too long before returning to the stars.

Date: 2011-03-16 01:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Poor grounded shuttle. Makes me wish she could make a break for the stars all by herself.

Date: 2011-03-16 02:02 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
My first thought when I was reading this was of Serenity - it was only later that I realized this story belongs in the real world.

Which is to say, good job! :)

Date: 2011-03-16 02:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh, this was neat! I liked the perspective you chose; at first I was wondering if it was a turtle.

Date: 2011-03-16 02:11 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
oh, this made me sad...

Date: 2011-03-16 02:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
That was an interesting concept!

Date: 2011-03-16 03:14 am (UTC)
kjata: tales from the borderlands (Default)
From: [personal profile] kjata
Great, now I'm going to cry over Discovery again D:

Excellent entry. You use words very beautifully in this ♥

Date: 2011-03-16 05:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I've never even considered writing from the perspective of something that isn't living. Well, not in the conventional sense of the word, I guess. It's an interesting perspective!

Date: 2011-03-16 08:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Wow. As some others have said, great choice of perspective and not something I would have thought of (probably). I really liked this. The imagery was wonderful and overall, it's a very poignant piece.

Date: 2011-03-16 01:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I think this is gorgeous. But I'm a complete sucker for imbuing inanimate objects with personal feelings. I especially love the way you described the skin being bolted on.

Date: 2011-03-16 04:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Beautifully written - makes me want to touch the hull, if only for a moment.

Date: 2011-03-16 05:33 pm (UTC)
shadowwolf13: (Default)
From: [personal profile] shadowwolf13
I love how this is done. The perspective is perfect and lovely to read.

Date: 2011-03-16 07:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
A beautiful eulogy for the space shuttle who is now doomed to rest in the Smithsonian. Very well done.

Date: 2011-03-16 07:39 pm (UTC)
ext_289215: (Default)
From: [identity profile]
I like the perspective you put on the inanimate object here. I'm especially fond of it because I've always loved shuttle launches.

Date: 2011-03-16 08:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I really, really love your perspective here. At first the space shuttle didn't occur to me, but as I kept reading, I kept nodding.

Date: 2011-03-16 08:34 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Such lovely language and so very, very sad :( Poor shuttle.

Date: 2011-03-16 10:38 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
What a sad but delightful entry. There is a serious side but giving the shuttle those human emotions is adorable. Makes me want to go visit and give it a pat on the side, myself.

Date: 2011-03-16 11:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
As everyone else has already said, fabulous and unique perspective here. Reminds me very much of the final lines of Apollo 13, when the narrator asks "when will we go back, and who will that be."

Lovely. :)

Date: 2011-03-16 11:14 pm (UTC)
yachiru: (pondering)
From: [personal profile] yachiru
The narrator's voice here is so clear and distinct. Lovely.

Date: 2011-03-17 05:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
The language is beautiful and the idea very interesting. Really well done.

Date: 2011-03-17 12:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Space Shutter thoughts?

Nicely done. It isn't easy to make an inanimate object feel so human.

Good job you.

Date: 2011-03-17 04:53 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I loved the perspective of this :)

Date: 2011-03-17 04:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Oh that was just lovely... made me feel so sad! Beautiful job!

Date: 2011-03-17 06:24 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Very cool language in this piece. Evocative and a little sad.

Date: 2011-03-17 07:17 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
I liked the perspective here. Great entry!

Date: 2011-03-18 04:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
love the POV and the yearning in this. :)

Date: 2011-03-18 01:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
Very well done

Date: 2011-03-18 10:49 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
This is really neat. A great perspective to write from.

Date: 2011-03-18 11:37 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
very creative, i love the different point of view!

Date: 2011-03-19 09:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile]
aw, I really loved the message in this


ckocher: (Default)

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