Day off. Mood is good, everything is normal. All day we’re stowing return equipment in the ship, cleaning, doing inventory. You put one thing away, another appears. You float as if in cosmic jungles amid cables, spacesuits, regenerators, scientific equipment, and so on. The inventory is nearly finished. Today I tried to film the twinkling of stars as they set below the horizon, but unfortunately it’s not working — either the movie camera jams at low speed, one or two frames per second, or the station is poorly oriented. I took down the portraits of my son and father from above my bed — I’d gotten lonely without them. All that remains is Lyusya’s scarf, soaked in French perfume.