In my dream I stumbled across the vast desert of the dark continent. Something blinded me – sand, wind, heat – but I could feel the scorching Sun overhead and knew it to be the height of day. The simmering rock blistered my bare feet as I walked and the cactus spines slivered my skin. In the distance I heard the jackals laughing and howling, and on the edges of my darkened vision I glimpsed brief movement, but they came no closer as long as I remained on my feet. So I continued to walk, dazed and lost, a blind man seeking a shelter which did not exist. In my dream I could not recall why I had first journeyed to the dark continent but I knew I must keep walking, must push forward through the unforgiving land. If I fell I would never be found; the jackals would strip my body and the vultures would scatter my bones. The dark continent would claim another life.

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