It looked kind of like this:
Image from nasa.gov
Sounds adventurous, right? I spent most of my time in my bathrobe and pajamas eating food in some cafeteria while people came to visit me and tell me how fabulous their lives were and what new islands they had discovered.
Finally, someone told me I needed to get myself off the big rock. I looked out at the fleet of still unexplored islands and said, "I miss the sun."
It seems that we were floating in some big orbit but we were behind some really big rock that blocked us from the sun permanently.
Everyone laughed at me. "Erin, what a silly thing to say! Our new lives are so exciting. Why would you miss something as silly as that?"
But I looked out at the dark, gray, rocks without any kind of growth on them and my heart hurt. So, I continued to sit in my bathrobe, eating bowls of rice while people came and told me of their adventures. The people who traveled the furthest out before returning to tell me of their tales got more of my attention.
"Is there an island that I can see earthrise?" I asked, somewhat hopefully. They all shrugged.
Image taken by Apollo 8 Crew, 1968. Image from nasa.gov
Somehow the hope of seeing earthrise at least was enough for me to venture back into normal life. I got ready to go and packed my bags and asked how I could get to the farthest island. My friends were excited to see me taking some steps for myself but when I told them I was going out there to see if I could see the sun or the earth, they stuck me on a tour bus/spacecraft instead. The tour gave you a fun view of all the islands and stopped several times to laugh at the absurdity of a place with trees and grass.
Their laughs just hurt me more though. I was homesick and I just wanted to go back.
But for some reason, we couldn't go back and so my friends kept trying to convince me it was for the best.
It was a very sad dream.
I woke up, grateful for the sun and the earth in ways I never thought about before. Funny, huh?