Spit in the dirt [Entering Country]

[Omoi Tetsu]

There wasn't quite anything like it; the heat, the sun, it was like standing atop a mountain on Mercury, your face to the sky. Even when he looked down, the man could feel the heat reflected from the shimmering sea of pebbles below him, ready to strip the skin from his bones. You might think that losing a loved one or seeing your greatest hopes turn to dust was the most vivid pain you could experience, but being burned alive was at least a strong contender. The man pulled one foot in front of the other like he was dragging two sacks of potatoes, each step drawing longer strokes in the sand, where his legs weren't quite able to lift themselves from the dessert floor. Even though he'd been silent for the last several hours, he could feel his voice had long since left him, and thought about the prospect of being eaten alive by a vulture, unable to cry out for help. In the distance, past the glass floor mirage, was a small but distinct silhouette of differently shaped dirt. He could hardly wait.

[Topic Entered and Left]
[Country Entered]