The Extraterrestrial Garden
Time is running out
Daylight here is only 3 hours long, the night 27
This planet is still foreign to me
And the natives hunt at night
So I must finish gardening before the last light
In fact, a little before then
To give myself time to barricade the doors
Despite the unfinished work, it must be left behind
Vegetables and flowers without sufficient care
But at least their death will nourish
The mini greenhouse adjacent to where I reside
The suns fall a bit more
Is that 10 minutes? 30?
I’m still unaccustomed to how time moves here
Pattern recognition tells me that last call
Is usually when the sharp sands gust against the glass
When twin suns flash colors not found on Earth
There’s still time, a little more
My fingers are tightening up and my back is burning
I must continue, there will be time to rest after
This sprint for nourishment, for survival
The first scratch of the sands on the glass
My heart jumps, I must hurry
10 minutes left? 30? I still don’t know
My circadian rhythm is nonexistent here
Through rigid muscles and locked bones I toil away
This must be what rigamortis feels like
The sands scratch louder
The hum of their velocity vibrate the greenhouse glass
My heart accelerates with them
Shortening my breath which, in turn,
Stiffens my body even more
Calm down, take a deep breath
Inhale, a flash of violet
Exhale, a flash of yellow
Look up, a flash of black
The dance of colors unknown begins
The growls wander in from the distance
Neon eyes compete with the setting suns
And they reign supreme now, like moonlight
I gather as many tools as I can
Continuously tripping over myself, legs still asleep
Leave the hat behind, you don’t need it
Louder now, growls near with more footsteps
My poor sense of time has betrayed me again
Open the door, move the crates in front to block
Press your weight against the door
Pray, pray the gods of Earth can hear from here
The crash comes, knocking over some crates
Whiplashing my head
But the door holds
A deep breath, my eyes open to the pitch black cabin
No windows
Knowing where everything is furnished,
I move to the lone table in the middle
And light the candle
Too tired to eat or drink yet
I lay on the bed next to my pile of books
To enjoy one more night alive