HOWLING FOR WATER

The ruddy light of the setting Martian sun poured through the high windows of the humble chapel, casting long shadows across the polished stone floor. Carved from the native rock, the Chapel of Returning Waters stood as the sole house of worship in the small settlement of New Prosperity. Outside, the eternal dust of Mars swirled in a lazy dance, coating everything with its fine, red powder that hinted at eons of desolation.