In the morning, the walk starts again, i’m amazed that the extent of the deser never dawned on me before, it’s truly a sea of pulverized rock, but beneath me, even as i remember those back home in Kasr, my family and friends, how i miss my grandmother’s rice, the sand starts giving way to rock, dark discolored and molten rock, decorated by indentations and rooms of what i can only assume was once a building, millenia of erosion and the weaponry of the war have reduced it to a rocky platform.