THE MOON IS A HARSH MISTRESS by Robert A. Heinlein

Oh, he’s dead as Prof, I know it. (But how dead is Prof?) If I punched it just once more and said, “Hi, Mike!” would he answer, “Hi, Man! Heard any good ones lately?” Been a long time since I’ve risked it. But he can’t really be dead; nothing was hurt–he’s just lost.

You listening, Bog? Is a computer one of Your creatures?

Too many changes– May go to that talk-talk tonight and toss in some random numbers.

Or not. Since Boom started quite a few young cobbers have gone out to Asteroids. Hear about some nice places out there, not too crowded.

My word, I’m not even a hundred yet.

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