I scrambled up to the crest of Primrose Hill. the Martians' camp was below me. A mighty space it was. And scattered about it, in their overturned machines, were the Martians: dead, slain after all man's devices had failed, by the humblest things upon the Earth- bacteria, minute, invisible, bacteria.
My first hand- drawn picture involving the use of layers! turned out pretty well, I'd say.
I may go over this and add some shade some time in the near future.
who here can see two martians? trust me they are there!
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