11

She dreamt of the desert. She dreamt of dunes, of sand, of the vague reflection of a prince standing near a fountain. The grainy floor scratched the burnt skin of her naked feet. The prince moved further away with every step forward she gave. Night came, and the millions of stars above held her as she sang the most beautiful song there ever was. But nobody ever listened, for as she wanders in her desert of dreams, on the outside she lays still in the center of a castle where nobody else exists.