The Discovery Of The Space Station

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Someday, somehow, Clarke knew that she would witness the beauty of Earth. She would be able to feel the sun warm her skin, and have the wind kiss her cheeks as she walked through a forest. Maybe she would watch a rabbit hop out of a bush, or follow butterflies as she wandered carelessly around the ground—if those creatures were still alive from all the radiation. Her father had always told her stories about Earth, visualizing it as a heaven for the living. It had been nearly ninety-seven years since the last humans touched the Earth’s surface, and only a couple hundred thousand had survived long enough to make it to the Ark—the space station where the last human beings have been living in since the nuclear bombings. Had the humans not been at conflict with one another, then maybe they would still be inhabitants of Earth. But war brought distrust, and distrust in the other countries led to nuclear warfare. While watching the old documentaries of the last surviving humans retelling their stories of Earth, Clarke realized how different the Ark was, and how she would never live to her fullest until she was on the ground. The Ark was always cold, and empty, and the oxygen she breathed felt, if she could describe it in a word, fake. Surely, Clarke had never before breathed oxygen from the ground, but its as almost as if her mind knew the oxygen she breathed wasn’t right. As she sat against the stone wall of her small cell, she stared at her drawings of Earth. With only a

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