17
BY THE TIME we had returned to the busy airfield at the border station, the sky was once again dark over the desert. A pink haze hung over the horizon, signifying whipped up dust.
“I hope we can get home safely this time,” I said as we walked to the craft.
While we had been away, Leisha and Naru had taken the craft to a less busy airfield where they had cleaned it up.
Gone were the dust and muddy footprints in the cabin. Gone were the scuffmarks on the outside. Leisha had also replaced the broken antenna, but I would never have noticed if he hadn’t told me.
I asked if more bad weather was coming, and Naru said it was. A thunderstorm was rolling over the desert, whipping up a cloud of dust to herald its arrival.
No one said much on the flight back. I was sure I wasn’t the only one
