Icarus – January 22nd, 2089

January 22nd, 2089

My vacation to Niagara was refreshing and creatively stimulating. I wrote five entire chapters of my novel while I sat comfortably on a reclining chair, gazing out at the splendor of the Falls. She always said nature was the most beautiful piece of art in all of Creation, but she always said things like that.

She also would have asked how I could leave this all behind.

It’s easy to explain. The spectacle was moving but only on an academic level. I found myself studying the way the water tumbles free of its rock bed and crashes with a roar upon the river below. The mist that rose captured my artistic eye and I found several passages within my chapters to use the imagery. This was the only emotional tug Niagara had on me. It gave me the words to work.

Any real emotion lately comes from anxiety about my upcoming voyage. I am eager to cast off my doubts and put myself into the arms of Icarus as we set off toward a new star. Once we are under way, I can do nothing about it, can’t quit, can’t turn back. The security in that lack of choice is what I yearn for now.

I find myself unable to eat as the time draws near. As I write this I’m sitting in the boarding arena, waiting for the shuttle to Luna. The other nine members of the crew are here with me and while I can not divulge their names, I can say that each of us has a partner that was chosen for us based on psychological compatibility. They are of a sex that we prefer and apparently we are encouraged to… well I believe you can grasp at the concept.

I don’t put much stock in the government’s IQ-breeding programs but their personality matching system is apparently very good. I heard it was a remnant of some online dating algorithm used half a century ago. Suffice it to say that my assigned partner is attractive and attentive. She knew I was a freelancer right away, though that doesn’t surprise me, considering her credentials as an investigative reporter.

We’d spoken about writing for hours and I’m glad she’ll be along. I think if the only conversation in town for ten years concerns the equations of a Time-Vortex Quasar Node, I just might go insane.

The boarding light has just come on. The next time I’ll have a chance to write will be from the moon! Here we go.

Goodbye, Earth.

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