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    Summary

    The girl didn’t dream. Perhaps it was because she needed more to fuel nighttime sojourns than fantasies of a full belly, of escaping the desert. Perhaps she exhausted all these dreams years ago, falling to sleep in the soft embrace of hope and waking in the hard grip of reality.

    Or perhaps dreams simply could not permeate the armored shell she slept inside, those rusted walls resistant to blaster fire as well as the simple comfort of imagination.

    Maybe this was why, on a particularly stifling night, when sleeping on her gritty pallet in the too-still air finally proved unbearable, and she had rucked the mess of salvaged pilot seats and threadbare blankets into the sand outside her door, that he came to her first. She laid under the stars, straining her exhausted body for a cool breeze, and found sleep.

    And he found her.

    Language:
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