Man, want some cold water?

June 9, 2015

Those critters cannot fly despite having wings; they have long muscular legs, and once they take off, they extend their wings in order to capture as much air as they possibly can. It really was not drawing a parallel between them and the lobsters what was annoying me.

The surrounding landscape was not particularly cheerful and the image my mind was creating was even worse: the desert’s manna, millions of grasshoppers falling down to the ground, dead, exhausted by the migration, and a whole squad of living creatures feeding themselves off them.

The idea did not occurred just like that. I was in the middle of a dry plain, from Twentynine Palms, California to Parker, Arizona, 187 kilometers without civilization, no water, no shade, no margin for error, and on top of that, I was being chased long time ago by half a dozen vultures. Those darn critters, they sure soar with a fair share of majesty, but when the touch the ground and they start with those stupid leaps, they sure mess it up. What about those dinosaur-looking eyes? That radically amoral look and responsible for such an unscrupulous diet…hell no, it was not a good moment at all, an almost-nine-hour moment.

The road did not seem to ever end and a few vehicles slowed down to share some water. As many as three whirlwinds formed around two hundred meters away from the road edge, they moved forward in parallel at the exact same speed as mine for over twenty minute until they suddenly vanished. It was not an illusion, I’m serious. They say some men become clairvoyants after confronting Titanic trials and tribulations; if I get a visit from the geniuses and the spirits of the four elements right before the end, maybe I would be able to survive their exposition, my face would acquire granitic quality and my intuition the virtue of penetrating any upcoming mystery…I am simply saying this because I know how much people love a five-set final match under the scourge of the elements.