The soft, small hand on his face slowly pulls Daniel to consciousness. The sense-imagery overwhelms him—course sand, a warm tent, the powdery sent of yaffetta flour.
Sha're's soft features solidify as he blinks, the awakening sharp and sudden.
"My Daniel," she breathes.
He seizes her hand, pressing it to his lips: warm and soft, perfect and real and everything he remembers about Sha're.
"You've been asleep for a long time." There is meaning hidden in the curves of her smile. "It's time to wake up."
Daniel jerks between cold sheets, eyes opening to a digital clock and an empty bed.