Miranda and Agnes sat in silence in the kitchen, the only sound being the soft clinking of cups as they sipped their tea. Agnes watched Miranda intently, sensing that she was gathering her thoughts to speak.
"The nightmares I have are more like memories," Miranda began, her voice barely above a whisper. "Memories of the night that Aerogon was destroyed. The dreams are so vivid, so painful. I can still hear the screams of people, the sound of houses burning." Miranda's eyes clouded over, and Agnes could see the pain etched on her face.
Agnes listened attentively, her expression sympathetic. She nodded slowly, understanding the depth of Miranda's emotions. "I know what you mean," she said softly. "What happened in Aerogon was three years ago, but the memories are still so vivid. None of the survivors could ever forget."
Miranda turned to Agnes, her eyes filled with empathy. "Do you also have those dreams?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.