dripping water from her open veins and feeling lost Ilana left the bed she had called home for a night. the world full of light, she an empty cup. the closest planet too far now for her reach.
perhaps life, thought Ilana, is just a silly bet, not worth it, not worth the effort or the pain.

the horizon looked like the hairless shell of a giant insect. fossilized larvae lining the path ahead. portrait of a solstice snow moon. Ilana took timid steps, cracked some exoskeletons or rocks (unimportant detail) and found solace in the sound. Ilana bent down to crack them with her hands and saw the pale lifelessness in detail, thriving on her fingers. lifeless white rocks broken in almost symmetrical pieces by the slow forces of time. how quaint, how majestic at the same time.

the objective was simple: to wander aimlessly across planetary systems. aim, thought the older ones, was a counterproductive construct. in their endless meandering death, life is spreads across worlds, and so they wander under random rule.