Sunday, August 25, 2002

Almost like walking on a different planet, meandering through a barren landscape of rolling hills covered by blackened grass that shatters under my step. I look around and I am alone, maybe the only creature inhabiting this foreign world. The atmosphere smells of carbon and in the distance a bolt of lightning suggests that life can barely exist here.

Even though I am in the middle of nowhere, I take comfort in knowing that as long as the winds stay at bay, my easily seen tracks will not be covered and I’ll find my way back home. Back home to earth where the grass is green and the sky is blue. Here neither is the case.

A light tan, sandy path cuts through the monotony of black, signs that bovine life-forms once grazed this area.

But now there is nothing. Just me, the stench in the air and the tracks under my feet.

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