Crossing the desert

Dear Diary,

We’ve been in trouble before, but this is the first time I’ve really believed we could die here.

We’re in a desert. It’s raining. Yeah, I know, that makes no sense, but it’s a salt desert, apparently, so it can rain all it wants and nothing will ever grow. Looking on the bright side, we don’t have to worry about water, at least. We can just tilt our heads back and drink to our heart’s content.

That’s about the only bright side there is, though. We’re starving, soaking wet, we’re eating saddle leather—and we can’t even see if we’re even making progress toward Fire Mountain.

I don’t know how much further, but…trees, I’m sorry. I have cursed you over and over again, and I am sorry. I miss you. Please come back.

June






Beware the sound of crying children, watch out for the barmaids, and whatever you do, don't let the Pegasus spit on you.
Surviving Serendipity--http://www.sylvaniamania.com