"The sea was much
better," the traveler complained. "Whenever I got tired it at least
had its currents to push me forward on my journey but you," he looked at
the vast desert surrounding him, "you are of no help."
He went down on his knees, dead
tired. When his breaths restored back to normalcy, a while later, he heard the
desert's voice.
"I agree. I am of no help
like the sea and thus I often depress people. But do you really think people
will remember you for crossing the sea? Never! For the sea doesn't allow you to
leave any mark. I, on the contrary, do. Thus, if you cross me, I swear, you
will in turn immortalize yourself with the imprints you leave over me!"
The traveler got the essence and
got up to walk on. "It's always about the imprints," his heart
echoed.
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