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long day.

On the decline of the day. If I stay for the full twelve hours, I'll be out of here at 7:30.

The reports are not becoming sanity. I should probably finish drafting this e-mail and then ditch, as I am about brainfried.
Gone away, gone ahead,
Echoes roll unanswered.
Empty, open, dusty, dead.
Why have all the Weyrfolk fled?

Where have dragons gone together
Leaving weyrs to wind and weather,
Setting herdbeasts free of tether;
Gone, our safeguards, gone, but whither?

Have they flown to some new weyr
Where cruel Threads some others fear?
Are they worlds away from here?
Why, oh why the empty weyr?

-- "The Question Song", Anne McCaffrey
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