

When Pepe realized that she was gone many moons ago, he tried to snag a can of sadness and had it for brunch with seaweed and molten rocks. Just like what they used to have many moons ago when the satellites reconstructed the old telescope where live feeds of the Horsehead nebula beam on the local channel, their favorite morning show. The thought of going out eludes Pepe; somewhere he mused, Shanequa is walking an unknown city; somewhere he would want to be in or as their elder used to enchant "to a place youapos;ve never been," �far, where they could really tell people their real names. But thereapos;s work.
In the shop, the customers come and go and Pepe got hold of polishing watermelons in the souvenir section. If anyone asks him what his five year plan is, he would answer that heapos;s saving up. For what, he doesnapos;t know yet but perhaps to the liquid hydrogen planet Layered Leaves or hitch a ride with the New Etruscan nomads and donate to their daily potluck, his money will last for two tomes; he wonapos;t get hungry or get mugged by the Cretan Threatened Swans.�
Evening came and Pepe went to his closet and had bleached apple with turpentine sauce for dinner. To sleep he logs in into the Olde Worlde channel of the cyberdildonic spider page, where a maid milks a cow and he feels the pull and thrust grip of the robot and this makes him sleep.�
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