Homeward from Enceladus
Dear Earthbound, it might be the glow of the icy geysers, or perhaps it's the echo of Saturn's rings in my thoughts; it feels unending. We've caught rhythm with the thrum of molecules dancing on the edge of space-time. Write soon. The moonlit shadows play tricks on the heart.
Latitude Twelve: On Mars
Mars' midday sun pierces the solar silence. Dust storms linger like lost relatives; each whisper cracks the static. I share a landscape tattooed with history. There’s honesty in the bare rocks and the quiet annex of the valleys. Your biosphere Kassandra seems more real than home right now.
Sunset over Epsilon Eridani
How strange to see the chiaroscuro of space ripple in various hues instead of undulating shadows over plains! Epsilon’s resonance has become familiar, the way home smells before a storm. Aiming for the pulse of a star that sputters like a candle, I'm bound by breath, not worlds apart. Another constellation strums its dialogue.