“Not all that glitters is star, not all those who wander are lost…”

He mumbled the first two lines of a variation of Tolkien’s poem in Lord of the Rings. Looking out of his observatory deck, the view was indeed breathtaking. He was drifting in space while the ring systems of Saturn slowly crept into the view. That was roughly over one billion kilometres away from Earth, and the wanderer was finally close to his home.

“…The old that is strong does not wither, deep core is not reached by the frost…”

The rings, a great feature of the gas giant, formed a glittering halo around its mother planet. Billions of tiny pebbles and ice cubes reflected the sunlight to his capsule, not unlike a flowing river that sheen with Sun’s grace. Sun, the yellow star that is special to humanity yet is totally ordinary in the universe, was fine now. He thought to himself. At least, it still remained unharmed, untouched by those hunters from which he escaped.

“…From the stardust a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring…”

He remembered what Mrs. Amy had taught in that breezy afternoon: Stars are born from the gravitational pull of the space dust, a gathering force so strong that the space dust starts to fuse and radiate heat and light. Most of them burn through their fuel and go off in a spectacular fashion, spewing out stardust in every possible direction. The cycle repeats and a new star is born again. He still remembered how the sunlight reflected off his crush’s glasses, and how beautiful her eyes looked under the autumn sun.

He stopped before the last couplet. The space capsule tumbled and stumbled, and he caught glimpses of a terrifying view every time the observation deck faced the Sun. It glittered, or in a better term, became glitters in the black backdrop of space. The sphere of hot plasma has disintegrated into thousands of small balls, like a big bubble breaking down into small ones in bathtub.

At that moment, he knew he was too late.


via Daily Prompt: Glitter

Endless energy generated by evaporating water on charcoal

No, not this way! (source)

Minor corrections: It is not endless (the generation needs constant water supply), and by charcoal I mean nano-structured carbon layers. Still, it is impressive to see how a simple physics phenomenon could give rise to an important application: producing electrical energy. A group of scientists from China published a paper on the topic in Nature Nanotechnology Letter last month.

Water molecule. (source)

Water is a molecule composed of 2 Hydrogen (H) and 1 Oxygen (O) atom, and collectively they behave slightly ionic – there are H+ and OH- ions in the system, for example a cup of water. When the water on the carbon surface evaporates, it will induce a force to pull water through the tiny channels in the carbon layers. An usual piece of carbon is hydrophobic, meaning it repels water and stops the action pretty much.

The scientists found out that by treating the carbon to heat and plasma, the surface will be a mixture of carbon and oxygen compounds, and turns into hydrophilic surface. That is, water-loving oxidised carbon. Hence, the water gets pulled through the channels and evaporates at the other end at a steady rate, provided the vapour pressures at both sides don’t change.

How does it produce electricity then? Remember we mentioned earlier: the water contains ions, and a stream of water in motion is a current, carrying minuscule but measurable electrical charge. Ta-da, we produced electricity!

The scientists further found out the voltage produced can reach up to 1 V (high enough to light up an LED), and can be turned on and off by opening and closing the box in which the experiment is contained. This cheap, controllable way of producing electricity from evaporation of water could lead to very practical uses in real life, such as power generation at rural areas or places with little sunlight.

Original Paper


Any sort of colour was a welcome sight to him. In his field, people grouped different subjects in terms of their colours – red, yellow, blue – and studied them. The different hues showed the maturity of each star, how close it was to its doomsday. They could blow up in a interstellar firework, or collapse to a black hole. Of course, the assumption was the star died to a natural cause.

To him, yellow was particularly alluring. It signified home, instilling a sense of belonging in him. The appearance of a small yellow speck on his navi-globe could have brought him to tears. That could mean the Sun, and in turn, Earth, his home.

He has been a space nomad for twenty years. Or that’s what his console’s screen showed him after the superluminal device broke down. You couldn’t really count days and years in space without a reference point. After all, the notion of year started as the time for Earth to revolve around the Sun for a complete round.

His space capsule was kept in a tumbling motion to create a micro-gravity environment, not unlike how a rollercoaster could keep the passengers on the seats. He once groaned at the reason when Mrs. Amy mentioned it in Physics class – “For God’s sake, there are seat belts!” No one could argue with the universal law of centrifugal force though, especially when you’re stranded in space without any seat belt.

He was on a mission from Aegean: to be a herald of inevitable doom from Marathon. And he’s afraid he was too late. Mrs. Amy and all the people he knew might have perished, and everything he knew turned into dust.


via Daily Prompt: Yellow

A dream of seaduck

I dreamt of a constellation called Mergus last night. In the dream, I was learning to scull a sampan towards the West direction, navigating with the help of Mergus. All the stars in the sky were subtitled with their own names, sparkling in the dusk sky with magical dust.

I never come across the word, and Mergus the constellation does not exist in real life. However Mergus does exist – a genus of sea ducks.

This was one of the most magical dreams I had.


Word had it that space was the final frontier – a boundary to push ourselves beyond our capabilities to achieve things beyond our imagination. What the word didn’t say was we might cower and crumble under the sheer speechless horror when facing the unimaginable.

He opened his eyes and gasped when the capsule shook uncontrollably. It has been two hundreds years since he was put in the stasis, and his awakening could only spell one thing: the total destruction of Starfleet Endeavour. The battle at Aegean System must have failed, and he needed to carry the message back to the Earth.

He was one of the ten Mercury agents, a special crew trained for superluminal travel to carry messages between two predestined points. The discovery of such technological breakthrough happened in 3,257 AD at Planet Ionian, a planet at the outer rim of Aegean. Humanity elated at its potential: hyperspace travel, information transmission and other dreams once forbidden by ordinary physical laws.

And they came. Cold and calculated, as if they had been waiting for this precise moment to happen. They belonged to a species called Perxian, according to an intercepted signal. Not much intel was extracted, only one painful fact: they consumed light, creeping endlessly in the dark space.

He tried to recall what happened before his pod was ejected: Endeavour warped to Marathon space in Aegean to stop the spreading of the mad Perxian mass, and arrived only to be swallowed by the swirling void. Mercury agents were deployed when the hull cracked, to warn the Earth: RUN.

Fumbling the console in front of him, he saw a tiny screen with a reflection of his eyes. Haggard and bloodshot. He pressed a key and a message flashed on the screen.

” νενικήκαμεν?”


via Daily Prompt: Marathon


“This is not the right way! Go back!” A man cladded in armor shouted, signalling two persons at his back before a huge glob of black matter swallowed him alive.

The two persons stopped and turned back silently without saying anything. They strided forward and navigated themselves in the maze. They could not see anything beyond the two walls beside them, and a harrowing long tunnel in front of them.

The first spoke. “What’s the status now? We flee or we fight?” His sound was bloodied and defeated. His face was marred with black oil, a memoir from the previous encounter.

The second peered at him. Her stare projected authority.

“Yes, ma’da…” A long glass spike pierced through his armour. That was not in the calculations. Glass, being an artificial material, was a rare sight as nobody knew how to manufacture it anymore. At least those who were still alive.

She cursed and ran again, trying to recall all the routes they have tried and erred. She swung her club wildly as if it could get rid of the nightmare the befell her and the humanity. What would you do when the world you built turned against you? The steel they hammered, the oil they harvested, the plastic they happily used and wasted… These dead materials seemed to gain conscience, and decided to revolt against their former slaver.

She vaguely remembered something called “flight or fight” response when an animal meets an adversary. She’s just human, and human is animal too. When running out of choice, she could only run.

via Daily Prompt: Flee


He was constantly on a good mood. He was full of excitement, bursting with energy. Like a dog unleashed in a grassy park or a cat patted on its furry head, he was happy and not afraid to show it in public. It was raining marshmallow and lollipops everywhere he went.

A notification beeped. It must be another Like or Follow from his friends. He popped the notification and checked the number: 357 Likes on his photos last week for a trip in Italy. That photo with him posing like a Starbucks siren holding a latte – and everyone knows Italy has no Starbucks – caught the attention again. He always had that edge of photography over his friends.

He tweeted the same photo with a caption: “Italy terrorized by my wonderful voice. Make Starbucks Great Again!” In five minutes, it was favourited, retweeted and replied few dozens times. Five new followers today, 3 of them hot babes. He hit the jackpot again, maybe one day he will be on the list of trending topics on Twitter.

The same patterns occurred through the day. Share, Follow, Like, Favourite, Retweet – He never stopped in spreading his social influence to his sphere of friends. In a better term, he was unstoppable, driven by an undeniable desire to share and by an undying anticipation to see the numbers going up.

It was a long day. Two men in white robes removed a headset from a man. While they were pulling him out of a sphere contraption, a third man looked at the charts on a wall screen. “That’s a high number today, good job everyone.” The patient, sitting on a chair, listened to the doctors’ discussion on how this prototype machine that echoes one’s thoughts and reinforces in a positive feedback loop, and how it helps to alleviate the increasing number of depressed people who couldn’t shine in real life.

He didn’t really care. He just sat there silently, wishing to scream in his little own echo bubble again.

via Daily Prompt: Echo