2034. Memento mori. Thought that would sink in, this far out. That black, undeniable emptiness of it all. Damn, he would have none of it. Raving about eternal life after Assumption, whatever that meant. Then he left dock. Just walked right out into the interstellar, left the dock wide open. What a Marmaduke. Left a [...]
With wind in our sails we swept through seas’ endless foam, the formant of the trough, the sharp cry of eagles at our backs, the distant land of the bayou behind the fog bank. We were obscured at last.