World's Over Journal III Breathing Awake

Early this morning our tomb’s silent darkness was broken; I call it morning, but honestly I had no idea what time of day it is. The flickering of fusion energy within the tubes, which we usually slept through by now, stabilized into bright blue beams of light all around us. The floors, walls and ceiling lit the entirety of our once corpse like shell.

Though much of our little world seemed more alive than we had ever known it, no one else reanimated. It was eerie, as for the first time we took in with our eyes the full weight of our tomb. Those sleeping remained in their slumber, heads bowed with clumps of matted hair hanging over their grimy emotionless faces, uncaring at the change in life around them. Silent guardians in their combat armour sat or lay about us where they had fallen. Some in their battle stations or huddled against one another beside an ammo crate or cuddled together on a bunk arm over arm. They weren’t even breathing, all at once this fact, which we had been oblivious to until now, hit the both of us hard, how didn’t we notice this before?

In earnest anticipation of,
Jane
With Charles