I stumbled along the dust path. I was dying. There was no place for me to go, to find shelter, to hide, to find some cold water.

I came from a place where in summer we were lucky if the tempreture reached 5 degrees celcius. 16 degrees wasn't my type of weather.

All around me where trees, although they were too far away for me to  reach; grass, although there was no brease to brush away the heat off the ground; the dust path which I followed; far away to either side of me where hills.

I was wandering a valley, most likely to die within the next few days. What was I to do?

The End

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