Nothing could be heard but a sort of rustling, as if somewhere in the distance the wind was passing through the willows. When I came to, I was lying on my back on a hard surface with a few reddish rocks at the edge of my field of vision. I didn’t faint, but the effort exhausted me, so I lay on my back again on the dust-covered stony ground. My mind’s touch had been less light this time than before. I felt sweaty with exertion and as I stretched my hands in the red dust my first and most unrealizable thought was, “I’d like to take a bath” I whispered and my voice sounded strangely loud in the thick air. If the terraforming failed or didn’t fit within predetermined parameters we’d spend our days side by side until we decided otherwise. “No harps please,” I whispered but apparently it was already too late. Was I dead and in heaven? But how could I think rationally when I was lounging in a bathtub that logically had no business being there? I closed my eyes and imagined that just beyond the river of honey flowed a clear, clear, sparkling stream.
