It must have been in the second or third week that Roxan simply couldn’t take it anymore. She had to pee, but coming out of her near comatose state took as much effort as getting into it in the first place. The first thing she did was blink. This took immense effort. Eventually the dream-like fog that obscured her vision faded. She was looking with clarity out onto the stars.

Roxan chose to focus next on her hearing. The steady low whirl of the fans blowing recycled air into the cabin filled her mind. She blinked a few times, tears flooding her eyes as she realized just how dry they were.

She focused next on taste. A half-chewed mash of potato chips had packed itself into the bottom of her left cheek. It took ages for her to dig it out with her tongue and finally swallow it, the saliva-soaked mess tasting awful. She shivered in disgust as it went down. This seemed to shake awake her skin, and she could feel her shirt pressed against her back by the chair. She stretched up her arms and, finally, yawned.