They came back every year to lay flowers at this place.
One of those weird traditions, that I’m sure no one can remember how it started. Tuxedo Atoll, largest of the Border Isles and as I stand on this beach with its white sands and blue sea, I find it hard to imagine that this place has ever been anything but tranquil. That there has ever been any noise louder than the lapping of the waves or the gulls that occasionally pass overhead.
The sky is as blue as I’ve ever seen. Our small sun hangs high in the noon sky. Below it, our sister planet is a ghostly white crescent just above the horizon. I can almost see the artificial lights of the crater cities on the night side. Like eyes watching us closely. West and beyond the horizon is home. We’re separated by the vast blue that stretches beyond sight, and I’m happy. The distance is reassuring. For some reason, I think about my Mom and I wonder if she’d ever imagined her little girl would have travelled so far and seen so much.
I want to close my eyes and drink in the absolute peace around me, but I find it almost impossible to tear my eyes away from the vastness of the panorama. Nature surrounds me. An impassable moat providing peace and isolation at its epi-centre.
The wreckage is the only man made blot I can see. Jagged brown black ribs of metal rising like trees from the crystal clear ocean. A cadaver stripped of everything useful by man, while nature will take care of the shattered steel skeleton that remains. Once our finest creation. The pinnacle of our collective knowledge, expertise and aggression, and in time there will be no trace. As I close my eyes and let the sea breeze caress my face, I believe the world will be no poorer for its absence.
I’m alone in the world and I’m just fine