He never asked why.
He only glared when people asked him.
He never saw the sky as a swath, as most do.
For him, every cubic meter of space was unique and ever-changing.
He wouldn't think to talk about engines, instrument readings, specs.
It was only the air that spoke to him, became him.
He never moved machinery.
It worked him through himself.
Created: Dec 30, 2011VerboseMinimalist Document Media