After months in a cryo-tube, they finally woke me. What a headache! Sheesh. And holy moly, I really had to go to the bathroom, after which I needed not so much a shower as a sandblasting. That cryo gunk is sticky and it gets into places you just wouldn’t … well, maybe you would … believe.


Then there was food. Never in my entire life have I wanted to eat a starship, including the cargo. Talk about an appetite. Not just me. Everyone had just been wakened at the same time and we all felt hollow.

T.S. Eliot was spinning in my head:

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats’ feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death’s other Kingdom
Remember us-if at all-not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

I remembered more of the poem.

This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man’s hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

I hoped the poem was not a predictor of explorations to come. Given the awful condition in which we left Earth, we needed to find a new home. A fertile planet on which crops will grow. Where the battered human race could remember its better self. We had not been superior to cockroaches in a long time.

Finally after eating for what seemed an eternity, we donned our lime green suits — the lightweight ones for worlds that are not hostile, merely unknown — and they opened the doors. We emerged. Into paradise.

Breathtaking. The colors were a bit odd. The plants were all kinds of colors, like a riotous flower garden. The whole planet was a garden. So we named it “Eden” — which I thought was a mistake. We got kicked out of Eden already. What do I know? I don’t make the Big Decisions. Way above my pay grade. I was just along for the ride. Before we got back on board the ship, I had a thought. I dawdled. Picked up the litter we’d left behind. Found a big piece of cardboard.

Must have been a box of some sort, but it would make a pretty good sign. I found a piece of wood to which I could attach it. I had a nail gun in my tool kit and a big marking pen. It hadn’t dried out and worked in the lower gravity of this new planet. New to us, but home to so much other life. Like Earth had been before we stripped her of everything but trash. I put my sign near where we’d landed. Hopefully future expeditions would land in more or less the same spot.

I wrote my message. In my best handwriting. Using huge letters so no one could miss it — or mistake its meaning:


17 thoughts on “LAST CHANCE FOR EDEN

  1. draliman November 17, 2016 / 6:28 am

    Very cool. Sadly we need such signs, reminding us of things which are really just good manners or common sense.


    • Marilyn Armstrong November 17, 2016 / 11:39 am

      I remember being a kid when cleaning up after ourselves was automatic. You were taught that at home and no one with any kind of upbringing would leave trash behind them. Don’t parents teach this stuff anymore or is it that no one is listening?

      Liked by 2 people

      • Garry Armstrong November 17, 2016 / 12:07 pm

        Still don’t fathom why they litter — whether while driving or on foot. So damn thoughtless.


        • Marilyn Armstrong November 17, 2016 / 8:26 pm

          Never underestimate the importance of laziness. It’s easier to throw it out the window or drop it wherever you are than to find a trash bin.


      • draliman November 18, 2016 / 11:16 am

        Probably both. I was taught to clean up after myself too when I was little.


        • Marilyn Armstrong November 18, 2016 / 11:29 am

          So was I. But my granddaughter, who was taught the same, litters. I know because I’ve caught her doing it. She couldn’t understand why I was so upset. It was just some trash.

          Liked by 1 person

  2. swo8 November 17, 2016 / 11:04 am

    I think we had better listen to you.


        • Marilyn Armstrong November 17, 2016 / 8:28 pm

          I’d really like to be wrong, but I think we — the human race — are on the edge of a precipice. Often I think it’s possible we’ve already fallen off, but haven’t yet hit the bottom of the chasm.

          Liked by 1 person

          • swo8 November 17, 2016 / 8:33 pm

            There’s time yet, Marilyn.


  3. Judy @ NewEnglandGardenAndThread November 18, 2016 / 7:46 am

    Yesterday, I received an email from our local library. They are looking for volunteers to walk a local trail to pick up the litter. Sad that some of us think this world is just a big trash can, and the rest of us can just clean it up for them.


    • Marilyn Armstrong November 18, 2016 / 5:59 pm

      it was weird realizing my own granddaughter didn’t even understand why she should NOT litter. I didn’t (don’t) understand what she doesn’t understand.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Cherrie November 18, 2016 / 2:57 pm



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