Becoming the fisherwoman’s wife.

A set of truths, as it may be. Long distance, out at sea, whisked away by strangers on the tides.

My heart burns there, too.

Too long shadows of doubt casts glances on the walls. Too long since the dawn has passed. Now a new dawn rises. Born in red, gold and silver – do we still have hope?

I do.

First Contact Day.

A fitting day to renew oneself and celebrate with hope.
Live long and prosper.

Cthulhu is not your big, stupid jellyfish.

A fact, that, should be obvious.

Meers and Peers, Frost and Mudd.
Too many to mention, Many.