Hot dry sand sifts between my toes dusty and dirty are my feet as it pours into my sandals. A cool replenishing bath- cold water over my parched lips and tongue an oasis in this place of death and dying.I feel like every part of me that was alive and vibrant is shriveling up like everything around me. Nothing can survive this barren arid place. And still, my feet plod on and on. I won't turn back. I won't submit to the call.