STORY STARTER

Write a story or scene that takes place in a desert.

Your plot can be about anything, but the main setting of your story should be in a desert setting.

Journal Entry #32

π™°πš™πš›πš’πš• π™³πšŠπš’ ???, 𝟷𝟿𝟢𝟾 π™Ήπš˜πšžπš›πš—πšŽπš’ 𝚝𝚘 πšπš’πšœπšŒπš˜πšŸπšŽπš› πšπš‘πšŽ π™°πš›πšŒπšπš’πšŒ π™Ήπš˜πšžπš›πš—πšŠπš• πšŽπš—πšπš›πš’ #𝟹𝟸 Cold, frigid, and empty The days seemed to be unending here And not seeing life prosper or even live is becoming more frightening and strange by the passing day I can barely feel my fingers anymore, like ten foreign things plopped upon clumps of lifeless skin and bone My legs ace but they, too, feel unattached and not functioning correctly The sun does hang in the sky, longer than the average day it seems, yet it’s warmth is a hallucination; it’s comfort nonexistent Though, in the wee hours of the morning, I do sit and look upon the cold dessert that lay before me Only for a moment, but it’s long enough to see the beauty in the blues and purples of the sky clash with white and grays of the snow and rock It’s beautiful in a haunting way I miss my home Even though the thought of ever getting back has becoming something of a joke in my mind I have been gone for a while, though I’m not exactly sure how long I miss warmth Too bad I took it for granted but to be fair, I hadn’t anticipated I’d be out here Night falls, or a makeshift version of it It’s dark but the sun is still peaking out of the horizon, shedding enough light that it could be miss interpreted as the late afternoon But after what time I’ve spent out here, I don’t mind all that much My body doesn’t do all it could before I was out here, in this God forbidden wasteland I can’t walk much anymore, my legs and feet feel as if they were made from the finest pieces of glass Breathing had become somewhat of a chore, heaving and choking on the brittle air I don’t think I’ll make it much longer But by now, I don’t really care My life was pretty good, looking back now I mean I had a beautiful family, at least a little taste fo adventure, and my own stubbornness that kept me going this far To me, that ain’t too shabby So if I do die, at least I can die in peace But if this is my last entry, I hope who ever is reading this tells my story Tell the world I did it, I found the Arctic even though I couldn’t make it back I fulfilled all the myths that there was something more out there I hope that’s worth a bit of something, aye Wish me luck, John Shnitter Explorer and scientist (Not actually factual, nor did I use the real name of the actual man who discovered the Arctic)
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