Down in the valley, on the dusty ground, we walk towards the red rocks. There is no sound except for the hiss of the sand displaced by our footsteps, and our breathing sounding heavy in the heat.
We will not live for much longer. We will not reach the red rocks. That does not matter though; we never expected to reach them. I don't think we even expected to get this far.
There is no-one else out here on this road, no-one but us. We do not expect to see anyone else. All is silence and silence is all there ever will be once the sound of our steps and our breathing is lost.
We forgot how to talk a long time ago. We ran out of things top say and now all we can do is walk on until we reach the ends of our own private roads.
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