The moon was bright on the deserted plain, the stars bright in the inky blackness. Not a soul around, not a sound. Feet blistered, toenails black, lips cracked, muscles sore. Every step like broken glass. Alone. Feeling like giving up, of lying down on the cold stone in the dark. I had been walking for nearly 18 hours today, the fifth day in a row on my feet. Needing sleep, feeling like giving up.
Wait, what's that! A light on the horizon, a whiff of music floating on the breeze. Hope renewed. Inching closer.
A barbed wire fence - caught, my heavy pack snagged in the blackness. Skin torn, blood trickling.
The light - was it just an illusion? No, back up the hill, muscles screaming in protest. There it is, the light growing brighter.
Another hour passes. Was that the tinkling of laughter? Turning to catch the sound. The music louder now, unmistakable.
A body of water - too deep to go through? Will have to go around. Stars mocking. Another hour and another.
Is that the hint of dawn colouring the sky? A slow pink, spreading across the horizon?
Voices now. Am I hallucinating?
Wait! What is that? A row of flags, gently flapping in the dawn breeze. The music clearer now. A row of tents. People huddled. A slow claps erupts, building to a thundering roar. Chanting my name. A building excitement.
My pace quickens. A slow run. The finish line sight. Relief all round. Last place, but I made it. I survived!
