Visitors sink into the mud pit Thirsty. The land slides. The ooze clings, sucks, and cements around legs.
“Turn back!” shouts the Guide.
The mud puffs clouds of dry choking gas. The trapped visitors cough and heave.
The mud pots bubble grey-green, ochre, chartreuse, and slime pink.
“Why did we come?” the visitors wail.
“The mud pots are beautiful, but dangerous,” says Miss Emeline Traveler. “The land along the woods feels cakey. When it becomes sticky, it is time to leave.”
No one has mapped the edges of the land. A vein of mud runs throughout.
The outpost Dry sits in Thirsty. A High Council Member of Thirsty sits atop a tower and uses a telescope to map the edges of Thirsty, but they cannot complete the task.
The next High Council Member ascends the 500 stairs to relieve them.
“Who can say if the task will ever be done?” says Miss Doe Friend.
Some of the High Council are poor mapmakers. Some lack the proper appendages to use the telescope or make the map. Some don’t understand how the scope work. Some lack eyes.
There’s little water in Dry and what little there is evaporates quickly. The mapmakers survive on what they’ve brought in their canteen and the salted Dry crackers.
Caked dust flakes off the tower Dry and swirls around it.
The mapmakers cough and cough. Their skin becomes dry and cracks around their lips, fingers, heels, and knees.
Comments
Post a Comment