This place is empty. Like this index card it is just me and my thoughts. It's like my brain is in a vat. I crave stimulation, but all I am left with is my memory. This would be a good place to end my journey, but the string keeps going. It would have been too anticlimactic anyway.


Day 52

But first, Marcus missed the snow, so we headed for Antarctica once again, and I didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him I'd already been. This part of Antarctica was as cold and wet as the first, though we didn't go ice-fishing. Marcus gazed his fill of snow, then we left.