from “Virtual Mirage” (www dot virtualmirage dot org/67343-2/) “Literary Interlude” May 28, 2025

“Ashes and Orbits” By A. Cooley

I am old now, my purpose is to remember our sins. I teach history from the twilight side of Aletheia Station, where the Earth always hangs dim beyond the glass, not quite night, not quite gone. The students come and go in rotating cohorts—agronomists from the Orchard Ribbons, welders from the Kestrel yards, the occasional monastic from the Numa Belt. Most of them don’t ask about Earth unless the exam requires it.

They’ve never seen rain that wasn’t calibrated, purified, clean.

They’ve never stood in soil that didn’t come from a recycler.

They call Earth “the cradle,” as if it was something tender, forgotten, buried in the arms of time.

But I remember it.

I remember what it cost to leave.