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let the wastelands sing


it begins here. in the dunes and the debris and the spilled gasoline; the sun burns bright and hot, and the wind blows, it blows, it blows like a typhoon on the brink of birth. the sand storms rumble in anticipation and excitement and before us the land is vast and fierce and brimming. the heat.. the heat burns away the day and the sand and the dirt on the jagged edges of a broken windshield, and we grip hands like we know what it means. you smile and nod your chin at the line of mountains in the vast, vast distance-- glistening mirages of promise and survival. the wind screams and the dunes blow, and i swear... the wasteland laughs.

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