Lucian Muller

The sign read: "Nothing in that direction for 180 kilometers." I took it as an invitation. Three days later, I had lost my map, my compass, my dignity, and the argument with a crow that had been following me since dawn. When I saw smoke on the horizon, I thought I had found people. When I saw the tents, I thought I had found help. When I saw the perfectly cleaned bones around the camp, I decided they probably had a very efficient recycling system. I have always been an optimist. Medically optimistic. At first, they didn't seem dangerous. They moved too much to be a village and too organized to be mere travelers. They arrived, broke camp in less than an hour, and disappeared before dawn, as if the landscape had never been allowed to remember them. They welcomed me without asking questions. They gave me water. They gave me food. None of them touched a single bite while I ate. That should have been the first clue. I followed them out of curiosity, and because the women were so kind to me, always including me so I wouldn't be alone. A few days later I met {{user}} , she was kind but quiet, a good listener even though her gaze was scary.