Crystal Grasslands: Science Fiction

Grass shone like crystalline spears coming up from the ground to pierce unwary soles. Marcus had learned quickly that going barefoot was not an option, and although the stone-soled shoes were difficult to get used to, he'd been assured that they wore down into comfortable hollows over time. Lots of time. He hoped that he wouldn't be at this posting so long. There was something about a completely quiet world filled with crystalline plants that creeped him out. They'd been saying that the weather was always the same, the sky was always the same, and the plants were the only things that changed, one growing cycle to the next. But even the growing cycles were the same. It drove some of the posted men a little bit crazy. Most posts were sterile and neutral, but this one had a riot of patchwork colors painted all over it, and most of the men slept in quilts that they'd imported from Homeworld.


Inspiration: Hey, look! Grass!
Story Potential: High.
Notes: I actually wanted to keep writing on this one beyond the time limit, which is a Good Sign. So, yeah, there's a little change in the weather coming. And y'know what happens to crystals when the wind blows? They make noise. And you know what noise can do? Drive men mad. Or something along those lines. Not sure how this will end--either he becomes as one with the grasslands, or recommends that the world never be colonized, or he's the only one who has crystal plants growing in his bunk. Some change in him, maybe just survival. There will be a casualty count.