“All I really want right now,” Elisa said, leaning back on her elbows, “is an old book and a hot cup of tea. I mean, really. Is that so much to ask?” Opening one eye, Elisa glanced around. She was alone, which did not justify talking to oneself, but it certainly helped pass the time. Puffing out her cheeks with an exasperated breath she grabbed her iPod and scrolled through her music; nearly all of it instrumental. Settling on a track, she tossed the device on the soft ground, bent her arms behind her head, and closed her eyes, losing herself in a world of her own imagining.