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Buoyant particles replacing the moon.

Rotten crust evaporated.

Vapors ascending.

Transient atmosphere.

This powder doesn’t coagulate.

It turns into slime.

Niđe nikoga osim onijeh što idu okolo,

s čerožinana, tražu dok ne skontaju da niđe nema ni žive duše.

Haze spreading downward.

Condensing, dripping of walls.

Crawling over the ground.

Salvation precipitates.

Salivation floods then seeps away.

Leaves one wondering where it went.

Those were not embers.

It’s raining ichor.

There they come.

Orange lights contrast the black sky.

They will stop flickering very soon.