Well, I just wrote 1,200 of the grimmest words I think I've jotted down in years.

Not sure how this SF story's going to end, but it's started about as bleak as it can get, so... I don't *think* it can go anywhere but up from here?

I'm going to hope that this is my brain's way of expelling bad dreams before sleep, but don't read war histories before bed, I guess. (Or with meals? Or in polite company? Or if you still want to believe in the beauty of life and potential for good in humankind? 🤷‍♀️)