She was too light. But he was too light, too. It evened out.
She turned his face and held it in the sand. Her strength was insane.
"Do you know what a human life is worth?" she screamed.
He struggled, but she fought his bucking body, kept his face buried in the sand until he was dead and a long time after.
An age passed. Annie was frozen in a world rimed over with white starlight, sequinned with frost.
Then the crosseyed moons came up.
She found an edge of the plastic bubble, rumpled and limp and half buried in the sand. She pushed off the heaviest hills of sand with her hands and pulled it out. She climbed up the anchored girders with it, and then slept the rest of the night in her own home.
The next day she dug out her household supplies from the sand.
The day after she cleared the sand from the lichens on her farm.
On the fourth day she called a few neighbors in and late in the evening she buried Bradman.