By late afternoon, clearly distinguish the old moon above the horizon rolling. Appears, for the orphans, loose pair of shoes. It is strange to think that, precisely, when someone dies, usually keep one foot footwear. Rotan lazy and rub with light helium rings. Night in the space can not be more formidable and opaque. All cemeteries say it, but he does it with a soft and strange joy: I hope in my white headstones, under the red dust that you step in sensual usury death.
I am the last remaining astronaut on Mars. When the storm hits, as the sealing of a posthumous letter, the cemetery will be gone.
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