“East…You have to…Go east…” he reminded himself as he held on to the stick;
struggling to take the first, hopeless step, pushing himself to take the next, and the next.
Out of the partial shade, he stepped, walking slowly into the unforgiving heat; as „the
fire' from the sun instantly resumed stressing his dark skin.
Looking downwards, he tried to shield his face - which had been „eaten inwards' by the
draining of protein his body had consumed throughout his past, eighty-day trek.
The dusty, maroon-red cloth over his head was doing little to protect his face; with his
heavily stained, extremely dusty, maroon-red dress not helping to insulate his body. And as he
walked, his skin started pouring sweat - losing precious water as his feet stepped on top of the
very dusty, densely cracked earth.
About two meters in height, was the sea of heat waves - bathing the endless, empty
vastness in which the man was the only live creature in sight - struggling with one step after the
other, dragging himself along through the bake oven temperatures.
From above, the hot sun was „burning' him out; sucking out every last drop of water left
in his constantly hardening flesh.
“East…” He kept pushing himself, dragging his feet through the hot sand which clogged
and covered his bruises; with his numbed toes not feeling the heat as they shoved through the
Eastwards, the man pushed on; heading in a direction opposite to that of the slowly
moving, merciless sun; shinning down through the dead-empty skies with all its might, and
vanishing every trace of life from the ground.
Gradually, his very tired eyes became too dizzy to enable him see clearly; slowly looking
downwards as his feet started to run out of strength ones again - demanding a break - right there
where there was nothing else, but heat, and dust.
To push on, he tried his best - closing his eyes as he unwillingly continued to slow down;
almost crying as his will to proceed kept p ushing his legs which were aching in excruciating