Oct. 14th, 2009 at 1:00 AM
(There's always dust.)
( and cows )
River noticed this pattern early on. And planet after planet, the landscape always held two things in common: dust and rocks. She grew bored of the monotony, when she realized it -- weeks on a ship, playing games and getting bickered at. White noise. Dreamlike states. Never having enough of dot dot dot. And then the job, and maybe after that a month or so of almost-prosperity.
Until the cycle began again.
She wanted to ride, but Simon worried too much, too often. That she'd fall (or worse) run away from him.
River was doing nothing of the sort. In fact, quite the opposite. Amid blue skies and flatlands. Her head craned back. Squinting at a singular wisp of white.
Waiting.