My parents could never describe it. The ravages of an increasingly stratified world, of bitter philosophical division, of a climate run amok. The devastation of war. The nightmare of departure.
“Nothing survived,” said my poet father.
“Probably nothing survived,” amended my mother, who’d been a particle physicist, and more comfortable with uncertainty.

“Adjectives of Annihilation”

About the story: Settlers have to make the best of what they have.
Inspired by a Marillion song.