Ghosts
09 Jul 2021Dom Diesel
In times like these, my mind begins to wander. Endless stars lie before me, and behind. I sometimes feel as if I've lived a thousand lives, each blessed to experience this age of space exploration, of conquest. Or is it a curse?
Her face comes to me again, clear as a holograph. Her hair as black as the infinite expanse around me. Her eyes shining like the star in my viewport, burning into my soul.
Do I have a soul?
It's unfair to have these happy memories. I've lost count of the battles I've fought in, of the lives I've taken, always with the thought of coming home to her.
But the realization comes once more.
She's long dead, and I am a ghost.
...
Are there others like me? Identical to me? Do they have these memories, too?