YLLA

<br /> <br /> <strong>Mr. and Mrs. K were not old. They had the fair, brownish skin of the true<br /> Martian, the yellow coin eyes, the soft musical voices. Once they had<br /> liked painting pictures with chemical fire, swimming in the canals in the seasons when the wine trees filled them with green liquors, and talking into the dawn together by the blue phosphorous portraits in the speaking room. They were not happy now. 1 Ray Bradbury The Martian Chronicles</strong><br /> <br />