Day Four Hundred Eighty Eight #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

No stream today. No rain. No breeze. No shade anywhere. The very ground beneath our feet radiated heat. I felt we were marching our way to the sun.

So providential to have a full water skin.

Elijah and I discussed walking by night instead, but first we would need to find a place to stay out of the glare.

We took turns pouring water over ourselves, to benefit from some coolness by its evaporation.

At long last the shadows lengthened and we came upon a place suitable enough in which to weather tomorrow’s furnace.

We’d hardly exchanged any conversation all day. We rested and talked. And decided it best to press on, not wanting to lose a night’s march.

Day Eighty #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Drizzle fills the air and dampens everything. And farther away the mountain whitens beneath its crystalline form.

Already Lyle thinks we must alter our route and seek out the pass around instead of assaulting the summit. I point out that conditions may improve well before we come to the point where we have to choose.

Lyle takes my notion well enough, but just nods and doesn’t say a word. Ever since I got back from the village I feel he has been wary of looking my way. Dare I say he fears me?

He’s not unfriendly or anything like that. Rather it’s a coolness that is opening like the gorge running parallel beside us.

Or is it just my imagination?