a hauntingly beautiful photo of a grandmotherly space explorer with a stern expression standing on the edge of aStephen King-style alien world, peering out at a ravaged landscape from behind a scratched and faded visor, a respirator mask perched precariously on the end of her nose, the grime and dust of her space suit accentuating the faint fine lines around her eyes, a spaceship's metallic hull looming large in the background, its surface pockmarked and dented, casting a long shadow across the desolate, destroyed landscape stretching out to the horizon, a stainless steel rat figurine clutched tightly in her gloved hand, its shimmering surface reflecting the faint, eerie light of the alien sun, a virtually unblinking, cold-hearted stare cast in the direction of an unending, sulfurous-hued sky, itself swirled with and coiled about great living storm clouds of iridescent gas and inky blackness, in the foreground, a momentum-charged and bursting explosion of ice-edges and angular rocks shattered across a seemingly vast distance