Courtesy o’ Free Vintage Illustrations, who are not affiliated with the rest o’ this nonsense.
& there I saw him, & there I waved to him. ¿You can’t see him there, on that star?
No, not that 1. Not tha—that 1. Yes, that there. #943,143,610,689,219,003,236, or as The Grand Almanac o’ Stars calls it, «Marissa Robertson.» ¿Can’t you see him there?
Yes, it may look tiny, but from his perspective it’s quite roomy. Yes, it’s quite bright, but from his perspective it provides ample light for books—light needed to read such tiny, & yet such complex ligaments, that comprise the letters o’ his language—a language o’ o’er a million different letters, each representing not only its own word, but also its own phrase, so that paragraphs are compressed into a few characters, & Anna Karenina fits into a slim 150-page book.
Yes, it’s daytime, & yes it’s cloudy. But the stars ne’er hide. Heathens have cast such slanders gainst the stars & their master, the Afternoon Moon, but they are wrong. They’re just not looking hard ‘nough. But the time shall come when the stars & the moon rule all, & the sinful sun shall be smitten @ last, with the moon keeping its golden light for itself, for all eternity.
