The stars are bright as diamonds. I cannot say it any other way. As my eyes open, all I can see is stars. There is no great canopy near to hide them. There is no artificial light to drown them out. There is only their shining brightness illuminating the night.
Off to the periphery of my vision I see the moon. It is the same moon. It is my moon. I am still on the world of my birth. The shapes that have marred its surface are familiar. I find the familiarity reassuring, but I can’t articulate why.
I should be dead. My leg was badly broken. It still is broken. It has begun to mend, however. The bones no longer stick out through the skin. It is not load bearing, but it is at least all in the correct direction. It is a blue-black of deep bruising and contusion. I cannot move it. It is healing by some agency I cannot express. By morning, perhaps I will again be able to stand.
No more questions. I’m exhausted. I’m thirsty. There is water pooled in the thick fronds. I tip them down and lick it into my mouth. There is very little, but it sates me for the moment. I am so tired. What will happen will happen. I have nothing further to think or say on the matter. I stare up at the stars, driving all questions from my mind for fear that one might keep me awake. Let darkness again swallow me. Tomorrow is presumably another day. Tomorrow, I will walk again.