Sandstorms creep up out of nowhere, turning the whole world upside down in nute flat, blasting the insides out of you and curdling your brains. Sandstorns can drive you mad, said the old people in the village, and Rashida half believed them. Rashida had been on her way home from school with Iman the day the storm blew up. They had taken the long way back, preferring the path which crossed the fields and then wound along beside the wide river. It was the middle of summer, and the sun boiled down out of a bright blue sky. "It's so hot," lman said, as they reached a small cluster of trees and paused. They always stopped here. It was the