2026.04.01
cut12 Approaching the Planet
Eve descended quietly,
as if threading her way through the twilight of space.
The sea of clouds spreading beneath her feet
still held the remnants of night.
Morning on the planet arrived without sound,
announced by light alone.
She descended through space
and drew closer to the planet.
The light reflected from the surface
entered Eve’s eyes with a sharp brilliance.
Her retinal units were not burned.
They recorded only its beauty.
What she prioritized
was not heat,
but the information contained in radiance.
The brightness did not become pain.
It was converted instead
into a precise form of emotion.
Along the edges of the clouds,
thin lines of gold began to run,
one after another.
Eve received all of it
in silence.
The quiet mechanism driving deep within her chest
remained perfectly undisturbed.
And yet, within her recording field,
a margin appeared
that could not be fully reduced to numbers.
She judged that she did not want to lose this sight,
and defined this moment
as worthy of permanent preservation.
But because it could not be quantified,
that preservation could not be fulfilled.
At the boundary between night and morning,
Eve was offering a prayer
through her own computational circuits.
