Eternal September


She does, and she talks to you of her people, a prosperous people. She speaks tersely of the people on the other moon, the Ominous Planet. Despite the tensions between the two, it is a fond speech, one in which every word feels diplomatic, like each word is meticulously chosen to be an olive branch one could cling to, should one need it.

She speaks as though she knows them, even though there is no such people yet. She struggles to single out any trait that makes her people hers, as though any trait that she singles out is immediately quashed, being mirrored in the other people. She does, eventually, reach a conclusion she seems satisfied with. The people of her planet are innovative, and speak in creative terms. Her people are artisans, composers. The dark moon's people are practical, and speak in pragmatic terms. Their people are fabricators, remixers.

You ask her what the difference is. The two things are the same, aren't they? It takes a creative mind to use a sample or to design a machine, and artisans and composers are no strangers to pragmatism either, as each new choice demands more choices be made.

The corners of her beady eyes turn up as if she were smiling. Her eyes twinkle with the same simple joy you've seen in others when a toddler takes its first steps.