Pogorie had a mixed day. To go from unbridled excitement to perennial disappointment is a radical wave of emotions for a young Zephwo. She hadn't felt this way since ever - from glee to sadness and now hope - since her mother went away. Her father never said much except that one day she'll come back. That she was fine. And she believed it. 

She delved in her thoughts. The moments she had with the foreigners replayed so often, it sunk into the recesses of her mind. Again, again, and again they went. They brought life to her life - to a boring world where the sole excitement was conflict and shed fluids from disfigured bodies. 

Her room needed some imagination, some thoughts, some whimsical dreams. It held her and a light. That was it. Some other minor pieces of furniture here and there were inside, but they were so basic that they weren't worth mentioning.

They told her to meet her at the garage on the main road in the morning, and this made her so excited that she couldn't go sleep. But she had to because if she missed their departure, she would hate herself. If she was genuine, this would go above self-hate - it would be suffering. To have spacefarers leave just like that? That would be dafter than a naïve newborn fresh into existence. So she shut her eyes and went to sleep. 

Her dad was in the next room, subconsciously tapping his hooks on the floor. But this never bothered Pogorie. She was now deep in space, flying through the cosmos, and going on the adventures of a lifetime. Truly a great and lovely slumber for a being so innocent.