The cracked clay of Lonely lines a dry creak bed. Runners plod across Lonely through searing heat to prove their worth and stamina. People cheer, but the runners barely notice for they are lost in their own thoughts and dreams of the finish line and fears of whether they will ever reach it.
A hawk flies over parched Lonely circling for prey. It must move on, if it wishes to eat.
Visitors come to Lonely to run races, cheer on loved ones, or to explore the terrain. Sometimes, they get lost in the dry crevasses. Visitors wander in groups through indistinct scrub brush and past gnarly trees forgetting how they arrived at Lonely and seeing no landmarks to show them the way out.
They stumble across a circle of scrub brush, the capitol Unattractive. The water in the well there looks unappealing and undrinkable. Here the Lonely run ends.
The runners arrive in Unattractive sweaty, spent, and anguished on blistered feet. Their throats ache and, to them, the Unattractive well water tastes delicious.
Unattractive welcomes all and cheers all.
“They live by the law of the race,” says the Guide.
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