Madness string 760

Random mermaid
The night is clearer than ink. Well, our nights are. In the winter, at least. Cracking with cold and faint lights mingled with darkness, the sky so high up that the very presence of the air makes your head spin. Nights don't get much clearer than that.

I used to jokingly call my hard drive a black hole. Then it went and developed recursive directories when I tried to copy the data off it... I was joking, dammit.