For a minute or so the heart spoke loudest. It just made sure I heard it. I did, face down on the sheets, putting breaths between the beats. Boom, inhale, boom, exhale, boom, inhale, boom, exhale. The cushion on my head, there was no street, there were no lights, just this barely controllable sensation of a slow motion pirouette, lights off, a beating four chambered drum, my own, deep inside, boom, exhale, boom.
Can the head feel like a sore muscle? My eyes are begging to stay closed. Eventually they will.
Spirit will not move for several weeks, but we have landed Opportunity in a place never before seen, well, not even now really…
Why did I think about something silly like the possibility of a return from the red planet. Will there be a ramp? A launch pad? An airfield?…
Or more of a song, sung next to a flag, perhaps?
Will they all just fall off once they find the edge of the disk? What if they stay attached to the giant magnet that makes the needles all point north? Where is north in space?
I looked at some of the images and wondered why nobody had painted anything onto the landers. We scribble on bombs… why not on something called Spirit, Opportunity? Who forgot to brand these little buggers?
Can we please design some logo for the next one? In the beginning was the word, I guess… and without it there would have been no “beginning” anyway.
Blur had composed a song that would have been the first one to be played on… well it became a hit.
A friend recommended that I put together an about me page very soon, just to make sure that the casual reader of these pages knows that I am not insane… (I am a very sane person, I promise.)

For now, there might be at least a little picture —>, as a sign that I am an actual human being. It is a good thing to know, isn’t it, three quarters water, some of it … sapiens?
I sometimes wish that Spirit and Opportunity were all in one single organ,… and maybe they are, maybe this is not beating, just knocking. A blurry wish to just come out and play.
And we should probably really listen to some good old Holst… …