It must be lonely, he thinks, up there in the night, touching the face of the moon, and strangely beautiful. He has no need to breathe, and he wonders if he could walk there unencumbered, no need for the bulky suit. Pictures himself scooping up a handful of moondust and wonders if it’s the same in consistency as his own will be when he meets his final end.
Beautiful.
Spike's snarkiness hides a tremendous sense of wonder.
no subject
It must be lonely, he thinks, up there in the night, touching the face of the moon, and strangely beautiful. He has no need to breathe, and he wonders if he could walk there unencumbered, no need for the bulky suit. Pictures himself scooping up a handful of moondust and wonders if it’s the same in consistency as his own will be when he meets his final end.
Beautiful.
Spike's snarkiness hides a tremendous sense of wonder.