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As he walks on, he believe the destination is close. He bothered not and cared less. He was more factual to a fault. With reckless abandon, he relied on the little trough of water he carried with him. He was benevolent to hungry and thirsty little creatures. As time tickled on, his home became a mirage. This close-by destination looked thus far. He imagined what has become this path. In an immediate flashback, the horrifying stories of what happened to night travellers along this desert gripped him. He abandoned his car three days ago because the gasoline mysterious finished. He had walked-on for all these days, living on the remaining food reserve. Right now, realizing that he had walked seven days into the first three days brought him to his senses. As no one could lecture him anymore. All these followed suit as the last glup of water melted in his throat. He remembered the sunday school preacher man. I was not consistent in attending to the preacher man classes, he thought. He had on several occasions lied about going to church. However, he tried to demonstrate what he saw his mother did every morning and last thing in the night by his bed side , when he was still three years old. What if I die? He thought. After counting endlessly and wishing endlessly for a help. None was within sight. Not even a passerby like him. He felt energy leaving him. He could barely move swirftly. At every pace, the sand gripped his legs. He felt like removing his cloths but the heat was so scorching. Eventually, he did when he couldn't bear it any longer. What he saw amazed him. Even a blind man could count his ribs. An observer would lost counts of the number of times he fell down. As he lay down waiting for the last breath, he felt a gentle breeze blew over him. As he struggled to open his eyes to see which tree is carrying this breeze, he was shocked down to his spine. So I have become a meal for these vultures. The circled him. One the baldden creatures boldly made its way, probably to check if their game has died. As soon as it made its way towards him, he allowed the vulture to walk quite closer. Clutching on his sharp sword, with the last energy in him, he severed it's head off . His strength , to his amazement , brought more of the creatures down. He didn't allow their blood to waste. Swiftly, in a hazy illusion, he saw trees far ahead. I could make it up to those shades. I will locate that particular tree that drips water he thought . His feet can no longer carry him. He resorted to crawling. He crawled for seven days. As he crawled into the shades, by this time, his cloths had turned into rags. The once healthy body is now a skeleton, and more of the creatures patiently followed behind as though they knew a point would come when he wouldn't be able to raise his hands or waited when the last bullet will escape from his gun. All the trees seem the same. He leaned on one. He discovered most of his hairs had fallen off. The blood that trailed after him was indeed his own blood, coming from his wounds. No wonder, those ugly creatures followed him. He managed to sleep for few minutes. As though someone tapped him, he sluggishly raised his pistol, one bang!! All of them that made their way towards him fell as a heap. In the same confusion, he saw what he was looking for. Once more, he crawled ahead , towards the tree that drips water. Oh, I thought you have been extinct. As he drank water dripping from the tree, he smiled, "the endangered tree specie I didn't expect to find." He felt life returned again.