This is a story about a girl I once knew a long long time ago. It was different then. Quieter, calmer, more real somehow. This was before the war, of course. In fact, I don't think that we even realised. Even though, looking back it must have been apparent. The disappearances, the meteor strikes, even the rise in temperature. Thank god for the callowness and self-absorption of youth. But we weren't young for long. You couldn't be. Not when they were here. The things I saw...
But that's a different story, for another time. This is the tale of her. She was called Estelle, a name that my mother had once told me meant star. It suited her down to the ground. She seemed to shine with an indescriable sort of elegance. Etheral would be the right word for her, I think.