Baby Jaan gazed at the skies as Muezza slept. The stars went out. Distant, cold and sparkling stars that seemed almost at touching distance and try as Baby Jaan did, she didn't think she would ever be able to count them all. Stories were a little like that, she thought. Just when you thought you had come to the end of a story, it led to another one and then another. And Muezza, Baby Jaan thought, was like the sky with a treasure house of starry stories. I am so lucky to have a friend like him, she thought, moving closer to him so that he would be protected from the desert cold. Then she sat there thinking of all the stories she had been told.
