The sandy soil of Exhausted puckers along a fence line topped with concertina wire.
Guards watch the border indolently, but there are holes in the fence no one has bothered to repair.
Despite stern fencing, little within lures newcomers to explore the other side.
“Although, there must be something there or why bother?” some ask.
A harsh sun beats the Exhausted desert into submission. The desert spirals. Cacti bristle in the heat. They horde water. Thieving beetles stab at their stems to steal some. Birds nest in the sand fluttering dusty wings and playing dead as a mode of survival. Parched ghosts moan in the barren town.
“No words worth writing,” they cry.
A trespasser feels a flat ache as they walk along the fence looking for a hole in the slatted boards.
Finding one, they peer in at the ghost town Parched. Ghosts float above the slatted floorboards and wooden walkways over the dry, cracked land.
"Water, water!" they cry and search.
"There is little water and lots of whiskey," says the spectral Guide.
Ghosts horses hang their heads outside saloons. Some stumble out of the bars crying, “What’s the fun of this?"
"You must bring your own water," says the Guide.
"I brought a large bottle, but it was never enough," says Miss Doe Friend.
“Although, there must be something there or why bother?” some ask.
A harsh sun beats the Exhausted desert into submission. The desert spirals. Cacti bristle in the heat. They horde water. Thieving beetles stab at their stems to steal some. Birds nest in the sand fluttering dusty wings and playing dead as a mode of survival. Parched ghosts moan in the barren town.
“No words worth writing,” they cry.
A trespasser feels a flat ache as they walk along the fence looking for a hole in the slatted boards.
Finding one, they peer in at the ghost town Parched. Ghosts float above the slatted floorboards and wooden walkways over the dry, cracked land.
"Water, water!" they cry and search.
"There is little water and lots of whiskey," says the spectral Guide.
Ghosts horses hang their heads outside saloons. Some stumble out of the bars crying, “What’s the fun of this?"
"You must bring your own water," says the Guide.
"I brought a large bottle, but it was never enough," says Miss Doe Friend.
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