Welcome to Mercury, tanning salon of the Solar System.  Okay, even in the 1930s astronomers knew that the surface was hot enough melt lead and that if atmosphere was spandex, Mercury couldn't manage a thong bikini, but that didn't stop it from being home to a race of insectoid monkeymen.  The inhabitants are clearly a highly advanced race that has been able to form the natural crystalline outcropping of the planet into stunning towers like giant doorknobs reaching to the sky.   Mind you, their stair technology seems a bit behind ours.  What I can't figure out is the tobacco patch in the centre of town.

Is it just me, or does the Man from Mercury seem to be just humouring this guy?  "From the third planet from the sun?  Of course you are!"   Paul claims that only insect life can survive on Mercury; which explains the roaches in my convection oven.  Frankly, this lot look more like lobsters with ears.

You'll be seeing a lot of our spaceman friend here.  He's on a package tour of the Solar System and set a record for being overcharged by every hotel on every planet he visited.

Image courtesy Fabio Feminò

Go sailing on a boat with mica sails blown by a nonexistent breeze on a sea that stubbornly refuses to boil in the furnace glare of the looming sun. 

Nice paint job, though.

Tales of Future Past | Ephemeral Isle | Freelance Writing | Radio Plays | Shop