Like Losing a Child

There's no hope for the melons. That last seedling sprouted blue stems and leaves. Ben didn't want to give up, but I saw the writing on the wall. After some persuading, we pulled up the infected seedlings and threw them on the wood pile. We stood there in our protective suits, watching as the flames threw off glowing sparks of ghostly blue, rising slowly into the sky. It felt as though I'd lost a child. We lost the cauliflower not three months ago. The okra and rosemary died last year, and the water chestnut, borage, and euphorbia are long gone... The Tablins' farmland is finished. Apparently, the few remaining feet of earth uncontaminated by Stardust is only fit to grow potatoes and corn... Where else could we go? Maybe there are still uncontaminated crops, but we're stuck here, with no escape... All we have left now are the #[k=b25]fields, the houses, and some useless junk lying around in them.#[k]