Heat and brimstone…

Heat and brimstone slap my face. my throat is so very dry, I try to remember the taste of water, but I can’t. One step more. I don’t remember the sweet aroma of fresh food or the sound of running water. Only heat and brimstone. The hot air fills my chest with pain and suffering. My foot sluggishly moves beneath me, one step more.

I know that the others are around me, but I can’t see them, the smoke is so dense that all I perceive are ghostly silhouettes floating around me like shadows of dead hunting for souls. I force myself to keep going, one step more.

We have to keep moving for stopping is dying and moving is…. I don’t want to think of that now, but we all know it. We have to push forward. One painful step more.

The elders warned us about this place, but none believe them. it was legend, myth. We have come to understand how real this place is. Perhaps too late. I push myself forward, one step more.

My legs fail me and I fall, suddenly I begin to relish the idea of staying here laying on my back, just to rest a little, catch my breath and maybe… die. The warrior never surrenders!!! echoes in my brain. Slowly, full of pain I pick myself up, face the narrow stretch of dirt and move… One more step. Again heat and brimstone slap my face…

-Stein

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