Supplementary Content

SCENE:

The vastness of space aboard the Celestial Whisper was, at times, too much for Noah. The intermittent pings of his message terminal were a lifeline, grounding him to Earth and to the memories of his Uncle Gareth, who had raised him after the tragic loss of his parents.

"Just passed Venus," Noah typed, each word saturated with longing. "Its warm glow reminds me of our village's Luminara Festival when we set lanterns adrift on the river. It's been too long since I last celebrated one. I miss the dim sum the most."

After a pause that felt like ages, Gareth's reply shimmered on the screen, "Ah, the Luminara. Dim sum and dim summer nights are a sweet combination but it’s bittersweet without you. You're missed a few years, but next time the village will give you a seat of honor for your accomplishments. We all miss you. Your cousin, Emily, talks of you constantly. She spends her evenings on your old swing, clutching the telescope you gifted her, hoping to catch a glimpse of you amidst the stars."

Warmth filled Noah's heart as he imagined Emily's innocent endeavors. "Tell her to keep gazing. One day, she might yet spot me or some other wonder."

Their exchanges bridged the vacuum of space, but as his mission's end neared, the anticipation of return grew more potent.

Days later, as Earth came into view, and Noah prepared for descent, a chilling sight met his eyes. As his home continent rotated into view, a huge superstorm revealed itself, near the very region of his village. Panic surged through him. He hastily sent a message, "Uncle Gareth, hopefully you’ve gotten the forecasts about the storm, but if not, take everyone and get to shelter!"

But he was too close to Earth, and the descent preparations consumed him. The descent was treacherous, with turbulence jostling the ship.

Upon landing, Noah heard of the destruction, a gigantic cyclone, the likes of which hadn’t been seen for years, had razed his home. He hadn’t been able to get in contact with his Uncle. He hitched a ride with rescue workers after his debriefing. When he arrived at the village he found buildings crumbled, trees uprooted, and the once-chirping river now eerily silent.

In the midst of the wreckage, by the old swing, he found Emily's telescope, its metallic body scarred and dusty. Tears blurred his vision as he picked it up, the weight of loss pressing onto his chest.
As he sat on the swing, the once vast cosmos now felt stiflingly close, suffocating. All the wonders of the universe paled in comparison to the memories, the laughter, and the shared dreams he had with his family. Dizzily, he sat on the ground, his loneliness a silent scream, a faint echo fading into the abyss.

POEM:

Dimmer now, the summer's light,
From my vessel, I strain to sight.
Homecoming is set for the morrow's dawn,
A journey undertaken, to and from our sun.

Six orbits, six degrees, in the range we've spun,
How fare you, us both, under the same sun?
We knew the journey, not all the risks,
Fate has called our bluff, dealt us tragic twists.
Now visible in the distant glow,

A revelation, I didn't want to know.
Returning from a sunward job,
unveils the mask, the task forgot.
Remembering dim sum on dim summer nights,
Now heading home, encroaching on the yet unseen sights,
In the aftermath of the relentless storm,
You perished, our love forsworn.

this tale of ours, once bold and bright,
In the dimming summer, loses light.
A story found then lost, still yearning,
Our world, in distant stars, for now keeps turning.