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Emotion 365: The Land of Frustration, the Capitol of Apathy

It rains intermittently in weedy Frustration. Patter falls and poofs of dust rise. There’s almost but not quite enough liquid to settle the dust. The stunted vines grow thin. Underfed roots strain to suck moisture. The sun wanes over the plain its light filtered through a dusty haze. The air smells metallic and the sunsets blaze pollution red. Locusts hop through the fields and fly in waves over the weeds. Half-eaten flowers unfold in the thick air of Frustration. Water settles on clayey soil after the rain. It sticks to the bottoms of boots and hooves. Frustration receives many visitors. Many reside here barely subsisting on thistles and dandelion wine. Some wander the plains searching for precious stones. They wave their metal detectors, which give off false alarms, back and forth. Many become lost while looking for lost coins.

Weeds grow around the shack of sticks, Apathy, not much of a place. Dead bramble lies over the roof. The shack sits on a patch of acidic clay where little grows. Inside the dusty shack, acidic soil burns the hands and dries skin in cracks.

The inhabitants of Apathy, no one likes to lead, all look and act with the same indifference. They check newcomers in and record deaths. There are no births here. The population maintains by immigration. Those who make their way to Apathy seldom get out.

"There are no celebrations, no ceremonies, no holidays," says the Guide, and although there is no economy maintains, "We had to cut costs."

What is this? Emotion 365: Every Day a New Land of Emotion

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