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Darkness, Year 12
You know that saying? Something about a tree falling in a forest? Well, I'm that tree. We all are, really. Every member of Emora.
It's night here, now. Has been for years. We make jokes about how it will never end -- the darkness. Sometimes, they aren't that funny. And most days, I can't even remember the sky being light.
But that's neither here, nor there. Emorans are known for their adaptability. It's how we've survived for so long, after we were lost.
The planet has adapted, too. I can't help but smile as I look out at the luminous plants and animals; even we have developed glowing tattoos, enhancing our body with light. My mother says it reminds her of a rave, neon colors swirling, like magic. I've never been to a rave, but I like the way the light meets the dark. It looks like hope.
Not that I would ever say that aloud. Hope is a fleeting feeling here. We used to have lots of hope, before the dark years. Before we were lost. But now...we don't have time for those kinds of emotions. Our time is spent adapting, surviving.
I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me sad, to see so many people afraid. Afraid to have fun, or feel joy...afraid to really live.
So yes, Emorans are survivors. But that doesn't make us brave.
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