Hank's hand squeeezed hers a bit and the rest went by in a blur of swirling sand and heat and wind-swept-away words heard only in her heart, not with her ears. They turned afterwards and looked up at the ship rising bluntly behind them, its snub nose obscured in the dust cloud that had pitted and torn and shot through and through Connie's extravagant lace and satin gown. Someone yelled, "Come on, kids, or we'll be buried alive. Let's get the party rolling." Hank and Connie stood hand in hand before the ship and slowly turned toward one another, searching in the obliterating sand and dust, the taste of sand on their mouths when they kissed. Then they too ran after the others toward the mess hall where the party was awaiting them. They went to Tucson for the weekend honeymoon and in the predawn of Monday morning they were driving again toward the base, fulfilled, happy. Connie looked at Hank's thin face, deeply tanned, but too drawn for perfect health, the result of the three years of tension.
What do You think about The Mile Long Spaceship (2013)?
