Day Eight Hundred Two #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

We avoided the center of the riverbed. It was too swollen with dust, making movement nigh impossible. In addition staying on the edges had the happy result of insulating us from the roar of the road traffic.

Our friends were much in our thoughts and prayers as Elijah and I went along. I must say I miss Tomas’s intrepid oversight of our band. And the thought that he doubtless continues in that capacity, cheers me.

As we trekked onward, the soil became more sandy, the air more arid. Yet the view ahead did not look at all like a desert. Instead the landscape was green and lush, stretching to the horizon across which was spread the megapolis that is Babylon.

Day Two Hundred Twelve Morning #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

Lyle writes:

I thought I was hearing things, but then I realized it was only the pounding of the pulse in my ears.

I stood up and the roar died away. The silence of the night held the stars in place each step of the way.

I contemplated my dream and its assurances.