Day One Thousand Forty Seven #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We have left the patrol and our false friend far behind. The latter whimpering about being abandoned and blind on the mountain path. I was sure that his friends would soon rescue him.

We came about to our original heading and pressed on. And we saw no one in pursuit the rest of the day.

Elijah and I conversed as we went along.

More and more there were signs of the drought deepening. This underlined the importance of convincing Sy and Jordan to bring their people into the safety and security, and yes, to an abundant supply of water offered in the hiding place.

I then finally told him about my dream. The dream of the rising tide of blood.

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Day Five Hundred Ninety One #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

The darkness barely lifted yesterday, and has returned with a vengeance today. It appears darkest at the point of the compass that marks our heading.

The Captain remarked to me that if he did not have Elijah’s strong word of confirmation, he would have turned aside.

Elijah and I took turns in the special cabin. Time spent here in our estimation is an indispensable preparation for the ordeal ahead. I know for my part I emerged energized and confident.

We divided our remaining time between the crew and P.

P informed us that he has been treated well. (This, under the guard’s watchful eye). I did note a few facial bruises, but said nothing. His devotion to Hamashiach is unwavering.

Day Two Hundred Seven Morning #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle writes:

From the top of the first dune, I saw the distant point at which I am aiming. A patch of green standing out against all this sand.

I could not see it from every ridge, but often enough to keep my heading.

Now for a time of rest under the tent of my garment.