Sulking. I knew that’s what I was doing. I was sent home as though I were a child, forbidden to leave the village under any circumstances. Their blindness to our predicament only made it worse. The fields produced less each year, the past three harvests barely enough to sustain us.
Throwing the lever with unnecessary force, the cabin door lifted to reveal my two story dwelling, not large, but comfortable and private. Floor and toplights brightened and buzzed invitingly, along with the schematics on the surface of my table. I threw myself into a chair and stared at the swirling green on black, trying to understand. An earpiece hooked on the chair headrest rattled off the signal in tinny repetition.
We were surrounded by unexplained questions and no one else was willing to ask them.
Swiveling around, I kicked off my boots and tossed my jacket onto the floor. None of my shelves of knickknacks appealed to me tonight. I lay back, staring out the large glass window toward the taunting stars. We didn’t belong here.