Day One Thousand Twenty Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

I passed the morning with Quasimo. I wanted to gather as much information as possible about our missing friends. And Quasimo, for his part, desired above all else to be useful.

He told me that the tanker truck was little more than a carcass. He could make out where it had been placed in order to block the road, but its remains had been dragged from the center to the sides of the road in an area where it widened.

What puzzled him, (and it did me too), being in the vicinity of the hiding place, why did they not come in afterwards?

It then occurred to me – did they also cut off traffic somehow above our position that night?

Day Three Hundred Ninety Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Another long day. Though we had left the bush country behind, the bleakness continued, only changing in tenor. Our senses were overloaded with the sights, the sounds and the smells of desolation left in these fields laid waste by the locusts. I’d forgotten my first passage through them because they look so much worse than at that time. Something else has happened since then.

The stubble that was evident everywhere before, I believe has all been burnt away, if I have judged aright that the marks in the soil are indeed signs of scorching.

Elijah just made faces and kept on walking. It dried up the conversation between us.

I did find Mawuli’s snake carcass again, so we’re not lost.