Here on this world of dust, I wear a piece of green. Canadian jade from Vancouver, where the Pacific crashes against the cliffs. I found the pebble on the beach, before we left for Mars.
It's red here. It is a world of one colour, filled with dust. It flavours our coffee. We eat it for lunch. It's a topping on our salads, grown in the hydroponic tanks, under the artificial sun. Zucchini and green beans grow well here.
We have grown apart, Alan and me. His brown eyes scan the ridge in the evening, watching the sunset turn blue.
Author bio: In real life, Voima Oy lives on the western edge of Chicago, near the elevated line and the expressway. She writes about all sorts of things.
Twitter: @voimaoy
Jade is part of 101 Fiction issue 8.
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