18 Purple Files

Perhaps I should be thankful for the infernal flying thing that continually pesters me. Perhaps. Without it, I do not know if I would have stumbled through the... strangeness in the wilderness. I would not have entered, if it was not divebombing my head, like a thrice-damned homing frisbee!

But now, I am in. I have gone through. I will have you all know that on the food, I call dots. Dits. I call whatever it is that makes it mine, because it is mine. This, through the strange-looking spots, it is the station where I work. It is not my planet, but it is... almost a home, yes?

Some help I will need carrying this. If there are any who would not mind, I will pay.