THE VANDERLARK by Margaret St. Clair

The peculiar quality of deep space is hard to put into words. On earth, however isolated we are, whatever happens to us, we are yet on our home planet. The man afloat on the life raft in the Pacific, delirious with exposure and loneliness, floats nonetheless on an element whose very saltiness relates it to the red sea water in his veins. The flyer forced down in the desert curses the rising sun; but the same sun that sucks water out of his drying tissues is the glorious temporal lord on whose radiation all terrestrial life processes depend. On earth our extremest terrors, our ultimate catastrophes, are yet like the blows of a familiar hand. It is very different in deep space.

PERFORMANCES BY
DAKOTA SKYE (@DakotasSpookyDecor)
DREW BEDOW (@