Nebular

I have forgotten how to write a story. Racking my mind for forgotten formulas and guiding questions, I tried to recall how teachers taught me to write essays and compositions in secondary school - the happiest, most creative period of my life.

I have lost my childlike innocence and creativity. A sense of state where my imagination ran amok with possibilities popping up from every word, situation, theory I encounter in life. Hecks.. I am not even sure if the grammar or sentence structure makes sense in the last sentence (and I just used both present and past tense in the same paragraph)

Desperately trying to regain my passion and creativity, I am now trying to write a story. Apart from characters, I know I must have a premise, a plot, a twist and the ending. Most of all, I must have a story to tell. A story to tell adults like me that many things in life are possible - kids dream. Adults too.

2111, Jan 5:
At this part of the world, nights last as long as 64 days. Then for 2 gloriously hot weeks, the sun burns so long on the horizon that there is no night. Somewhere in between, daytime lasts anytime from 40 minutes to 23 hours. We have no way of telling because storms blow so hard that everything looks black outside the window. Of course, as scientists and engineers, we can do some calculations or drive up above the atmosphere to see whether the sun is out there or not. But as our Mission Commander always say, a man's heart is the real measure of truth. Postulations, assumptions, mathematical regressions... those are just feeble threads of sanity the last few human colonies use to tug at a runaway Earth. Our Mission Commander leads the most successful clean up and recon shuttle, and is a major in Art and History. Everyone in the team looks up to her, including me, the most successful Applied Physics and Astronautical Engineering major.

"Do you know why nations fail?" asked Captain

Today I was in a good mood and I wanted to sound smart. "Historically

"We are just Day 2 into recon.