The Last Night on Earth

Under thegeneral shroud of star-filled night, the universe before Simon Vale appeared eternally small, before him a sea of glittering diamonds calling to him out to the immensity of the cosmos. He stood at the launch site, his heart pounding in his chest, and somehow seemed to enlarge the excitement and fear growing in him. A single figure before the glittering metallic shape of the starship, he gazed up, the immensity above seeping into him, filling the emptiness about to surround him entirely.

Standing to leave, he was suddenly inundated with memories, vivid images of an existence of exploration and curiosity. He nearly heard the soft laugh of his parents, both of whom were scientists attempting to discover the universe's secrets. They instilled within him his passion for the stars from the time he was born, and his existence was filled with tales of faraway worlds and the universe's possibilities beyond the fragile blue one they were living in.

The memories unfolded like pages in one of his favorite books. He was again a young kid, sprinting across the lawn barefoot, his small hands carrying his childhood telescope, one passed to him from his father. He'd bring it to the rooftop every evening with it, staring into the night, chest puffing with anticipation. He'd lose himself among the stars, envisioning worlds revolving around such distant suns. At any given time, the world was attainable, full of promise.

* * *

Now, the weight of leaving bore down upon Simon—his last night on Earth, in the familiar pull of gravity. He took deep breaths, the heady mix of fear and excitement churned within him, echoing the conflicting emotions that wrangled in his chest. Fear insidiously stole in, seeping into the corners of his mind, questioning the passion that had driven him to reach for the stars.

"I ought to be glad," he complained to himself, his voice overridden by the purr of machinery and muted voices of his team in the distance."Why is it I cannot shake this feeling?"

A shout in the distance snapped him back to reality. He scanned his surroundings to see colleagues and friends scrambling to prepare for the takeoff, faces glowing with excitement, full of hope. They yearned for adventure, but their hopes were entwined with Simon's, as with every smile they threw his way, he realized he had scant minutes left to retain the friendships he was about to leave behind.

Childhood curiosity about the universe, however, years later became one certain aspiration: to encounter extraterrestrial beings. There was the fascination of Mars calling to him—a planet charged with the aura of his parents’ hopes, whose spirit would inspire each of his works. However, at the approach to his journey, domestic comfort began to shine so brightly in comparison to the blackness of space and filled his heart with grief.

"For the sake of science!" his dad would say with a wink, hoisting Simon up onto his shoulders to gaze at the stars. They were evenings of giggles and stories, of fingers weaving in the air as he explained celestial events to his wide-eyed son. They captivated Simon, but they ignited a passion as wide as the universe to remain there.

* * *

His mother perpetually fueled his fascination, speaking of the wonders of science they were to see, bringing the universe to him like a harvest to the table, star by star. Simon still remembered the trip they made to visit the planetarium, the soft light of the stars above transfiguring the cozy embrace of his mother to one of infinite expansiveness in him, in him to stay for the rest of his life. Wonders ignited his mind, and the universe became home to him.

Home was what he left behind when he departed, and there, recalling all that, he felt as though he was ripping away at pieces of himself—pieces nurtured through years of support and en