It was so silent that when he woke he was certain that he still dwelled in the carcass of a metallic beast. The whisper of his blood told him otherwise. He heard it coursing through his veins. He felt it saturate itself with oxygen. Rhythmically, softly, it eased him into the world.

The vessel had fallen on a wide expanse of land that was red, like a strip of hot metal that had been beaten flat. It was cradled by two rivers so wide that the fringe they created made land on the other side appear to be from a different world completely. Life stemmed from the water’s soft banks like a series of green tributaries—tall grasses and fruit-bearing trees. They swayed gently and meaningfully, as if they were products of an unnaturally beautiful dream.

Even though he hadn’t been awake to experience the spectacle of his crash landing he felt ashamed at having disturbed the peace. The vessel was obliterated upon impact. It had slumped over and dragged itself along the earth for at least 50 meters before finally resting. A gargantuan scar had been burnt along its path. It had carried him so far… but for what greater purpose than to deliver him to the bed of paradise?

None. He told himself. Of course not.

This is what fate wanted.

How could I ask for more?

At this point he had collected much more than he could eat. With the majority of the fruit resting in one of his arms he juggled a handful of them in his hand, all were fleshy and ripe. He took a bite of one.

It was heavenly.

He found a spot to sit down. He hadn’t even had to look for shade. The sun was high in the sky and the climate was comforting, lethargic, narcotic even.

Now he had laid all of the fruit in front of him: one from each tree along half of a mile.

The fruit…

Each one was identical, down to the last luscious fiber.