— % & To The Sky, A bare paper worth a million intuitions, aren't you? Quiet. Still. With your powdered lavender tinted houses standing tall against ours. Your twinkling inhabitants build them with haze and stardust while strings of whirlwinds are tied end to end in their backyards to hang clothes. Humans haven't been known as a friendly species. But what good is the jury if its members have cases running against their ownselves? You have been demarcated. Divided. Separated by boundaries whom we call constellations. You have clear blue expanses of oceans surrounding some of the countries while others have territories marked, side by side. The air blowing, has soldiers to guard the borders. You are afraid to be terrorised too. Tell me, how are you better than the ground? The other day, I saw the names of your countries in my middleschool textbooks. And I realised your people have to be evacuated, too. They aren't the ones bidding but surely the ones to pay the price.