Her silent singing wrapped around the story she was telling herself, which she extended further every night on the deck. {Averill often told herself stories-- the activity seemed to her as unavoidable as dreaming.} Her singing was a barrier set between the world in her head and the world outside, between her body and the onslaught of the stars.
Averill often engaged in a personal ritual of storytelling, which she found just as essential as dreaming. Each night on the deck, she extended the narrative she spun in her mind, crafting a private escape from reality. Her imaginative tales unfolded silently, providing her with solace and reflection.
Her singing served as a protective barrier, separating her inner world from the external chaos around her. It created a refuge where she could shield herself from the overwhelming presence of the night sky and the universe, allowing her to immerse fully in her thoughts and feelings.
