Totoka River table for two

"wait. wait. t-tomorrow." lestan let a pawful of sand fall back to the drifts, then dusted his palms. "tomorrow, the island." he lay down right where he was, in the open-grain ground beside the slow rush of the sluggish river.
the faster he slept, the sooner the island would come. the mayfair shut his eyes and tried to avoid the looming talon of the golden bird that always seemed to appear the moment he wanted to sleep.