This can't be real, she says, looking out at the view below. This can't be how they live. We sit in silence for hours, around the fire, under the stars, we sit breathing in the desert air like it has answers, they are always just on the tip of your tongue here, it's impossible not to think you could reach them.
I wake slowly, reluctantly. The dreams are too comfortable, too inviting, reality too stark in contrast.
The answer lies just beyond your outstretched fingertips.
You vow to keep on trying for it.
You didn't come all this way just to let it go.
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