Day 42: March 11 (written)
The sky was filled with lights. Drifting leisurely across the ink dark heaven, they shone even brighter than the stars, a closer, more golden grandchildren to the silver stalwart travelers who wise men and woman had watched for centuries. But such lofty thoughts, of Fate or destiny, were of no concern to the one watching the lights.
Wide eyes breath in the display: a thousand or more lights, gold as tiny suns kissed with rose quartz heart. Inside each one flickers a gentle pink glow. As they near, they spiral around the watcher, as if dancing in welcome. As if to say: you are one of us.