Thursday, 8 August 2013


The four of us got up this morning, packed up the camp in silence, set off, travelled until dusk, set up the camp, and went to bed.

The only things to see are the flat red ground, the huge, grey sky, and the dirt piles. I'm exhausted, and there's always grit in my eyes. I don't know why we're even bothering to follow the furrow. I should have gone back with the others. They wouldn't have let me go with them, though. They think I'm bad luck. No one says anything, but I can tell that's what they think.

I sleepwalked again last night. I don't remember dreaming, but I woke up outside the tent, covered in red dirt. I'd obviously been out in it for a while; I felt like I was choking on the dust.

No change in the stars.

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