Epsilon

It was mid-afternoon, the sun was still in its hottest but John had been used to this dessert climate so it is not a problem. He had just eaten his lunch, toasted bird that he got from the morning hunt. He pricked some of those large cactuses that emit water to drink. It was a real survival life. He could not even imagine that hermits live their whole life in the dessert, but he too was living it out anyways.

After eating, he continued his journey. Walking up the dessert land as always, it seems nothing new would ever come. The environment and everything, all seems to be repeating itself right from the very beginning.

Mountain sands, patches of grass, cactuses, bones of camels that perished at the desert’s cruel treatment, scorpions, vultures that awaits his surrender, all these things he knew right from the start.

When the sky turned red like blood, he gazed at it and thought that a fierce bloodlust battle had occurred somewhere and it ended with both sides shedding blood all over the plains. “There is nothing good you can get from wars,” he thought, “bloodshed, death, and suffering--this is what all men get from it and only to gain what they perceive is worth fighting for. But it is worthy enough to fight for the good fight though, and to shed your blood for it is not a waste.” He was lost in his thinking when suddenly a flock of migrating birds flew from the horizon and blocked the bloodlust sun. He was surprised; he thought that why would migrating birds fly this far to migrate, was there a land ahead? But he knew that his path was pure dessert not until the end of his journey, or is this the end of his journey? He was confused, he ran towards the horizon to reassure himself. But until then he do not know what lies ahead of him.