![]() ![]() It takes you on a shamanistic journey to a living and breathing future, carried by a mystery that slowly unravels. “ The Moonday Letters is a thing entirely its own, full of melancholy, a sense of wonder and hope. It is as if there is more green than yesterday. It reminds me of the first frost of winter that stalls the fallen leaves on the surface of a pond. The cloud-rime on its surface looks rigid against blue and yellow and brown. At the bottom edge of the sky made from night floats the rising Earth, its outlines clear and air-light. ![]() The horizon runs across the desert as a black brush-stroke. The moonscape is lifeless as a sea turned to stone, unless you count the remote glow of the dome village, near-invisible. The first word on it is your name: that way you will know at once the sentences on the upcoming pages are for you as much as they are for myself.įrom where I sit, I can see the dust-grey plain and the hills that yield to its shadows, the bare slopes of craters. The one I will tear out at the end of the notebook and place between the cover and the blank title page. ![]() ![]() This may be the final page, the one I write after everything has already happened. ![]()
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