text: [Themes: modern, serious, true story]
  
  You lean against the corner of the building to wait for the old man to step out and when he finally does, you rush over to meet him just as he reaches the corner. Even though he's walking crooked, he's still manages to jump back like a cat about to be stepped on.
  
  "Can you take me to Arizona?"
  
  He cuts his eyes around the dark parking lot. "No." He starts walking toward his truck.
  
  "Please? I need to go to the Grand Canyon."
  
  "No."
  
  "Can you take me to the railroad tracks? I can walk the rest of the way."
  
  "No." He opens the door and climbs in.
  
  "Can you take me to the next town, then? I gotta find a new map 'cause I lost my all my stuff."
  
  "No."
  
  "Do you have any water?"
  
  He pulls the door shut, starts his truck and pulls it in gear.
  
  You watch as he backs up and then drives off into the night. By the pump lights, you can see the trail of dust he left in his wake. Maybe you scared him or maybe that's just the way he is. It doesn't matter now.
  
  You look around at the door to the gas station. There's no way you can go in there. You'll have to think of something else.
  
  Maybe you can climb up the ridge behind the station and from there you might be able to see the tracks. It's dark enough that you wouldn't be able to see them until morning—which means that you'll have to find a place to sleep for the night. You could keep going down the highway and maybe figure something out along the way. You don't have any water so you'll have to walk only at night and find cool places to sleep during the day. Whichever way you go, perhaps you'll run into another farmhouse along the way to get more stuff.
  
  > climb the ridge
  It would probably be best not to walk along the highway where a cop might see you. You've come a long way and you don't want to be taken home when you're so close you can almost taste it.
  
  You head back around the building and plunge into the darkness. The sky overhead is crowded with stars, but since there is no moon out tonight they offer very little light to see your way by. You'll have to take it slow and easy so you don't step into a hole or trip over something in the dark.
  
  You take small steps. With each one the ground seems to get steeper and steeper until you finally have to crawl on your hands and knees to keep from sliding back down the hill. It would probably be much easier in the daytime, but it would be a lot hotter and you would need water.
  
  The ground becomes rocky and some of the stones are so big that you have to go around them. You keep working your way toward higher and higher ground until you run into a cliff that you can't climb, then you follow along its base. Every now and then, your foot dislodges a rock and you listen as it gets fainter and fainter until it finally tumbles out of earshot.
  
  At long last, the cliff starts to fall away and the ground begins to slope around it. You keep going until you find a crevasse that leads right up through the middle of it. It's probably the only way through so you heft yourself into it and it's just like climbing stairs in the dark. You keep going up and up and up until you reach the top and the stars seem to hover right straight in front of you.
  
  You can't see the ground on the other side and you sure don't want to plummet off a cliff so you make yourself as comfortable as you can and wedge yourself in for the night. You pull your knees up and fold your arms against the cold. You close your eyes to try to sleep your way to morning. Maybe then you will be able to see whether you can climb down the other side or if you'll just have to turn around and find some other way.
  
  The sky starts to brighten a dingy dishwater gray. You couldn't sleep at all last night thanks to the cold. That's fine, though, you can find a nice shady spot and sleep through the sun. First things first, though, you have to get off this mountain.
  
  You stretch your stiff legs out from under you and pull yourself up with the wooden clubs that are your arms. Through the gap in the rocks, you can see a narrow, winding rock shelf snaking its way around the far side of the rocks. You can't see where it ends, but it beats going back down and all the way around.
  
  Out across the valley, you can see a gray line at the base of the far away cliffs. It must be the tracks. It's a long ways away. The sun will be up before too long and you'll have to find a place to sleep in a few hours so you'd better get moving.
  
  You wriggle your way over the top of the rocks and stretch out your toes until you can feel the ledge beneath them. It's a little wider than your shoes are long so it shouldn't be all that hard to stay on.
  
  Taking small steps and crowding the rock face as best you can, you slowly make your way down and down. It's actually easier than it looked from the top.
  
  The sun spills its rays over the far horizon and they blanket you in their warmth. Your stiff muscles melt away. You can see farther now and the rocky ledge spreads out onto a slope several dozen yards away. You're going to make it just fine.
  
  You look down to see just how much farther you have to go and it grabs you. Everything looks so tiny down there. The world sways—first one way and then the other—and your legs no longer want to move. You clutch the rock face with all your strength and take tiny breaths so you don't accidentally push yourself backward off the ledge. You're legs start shaking and your palms get all sweaty.
  
  You close your eyes and feel the blood racing in your veins. You know you have to keep going, but how? If you fall off, it would take a long, long time to reach the bottom. You might not even pass out and feel the whole thing when you splat!
  
  Don't be such a fraidy cat.
  
  She's right. You can do this. You snap your eyes open and start the tiny sideways steps again. It doesn't take long for you to reach the rocky slope. From there, you memorize the mountain peak you need to walk toward to get to that gray line and then set out to make it as far as you can before the sun gets too high.
  
  You've covered quite a bit of ground when you find several big boulders in a roughly circular formation and sit beneath the largest one for its shade. You manage to nap quite nicely until the sun gets far enough to the west that you have to move to a different shady spot.
  
  When the sun has dipped more than halfway behind the horizon, you set out to make as many miles as you can before it gets too dark to see. You feel weak from hunger and from lack of water, but your will pushes you on.
  
  About halfway through the night, you look up to see a tiny sliver of moon directly overhead. It's no wonder that you've been able to keep going this long. Even with that tiny bit of light, you can see the ground quite clearly. The faint shadows contrast against the background and your eyes seem to have adjusted themselves to the lack of light.
  
  It's warmer down here than it was last night, but the air still has that certain crispness to it. You haven't been able to see the mountain peak for hours, but are confident that you haven't strayed too much from your intended goal. You just keep pushing yourself. You are going to make it. You have no other choice.
  
  You continue on. You've been walking for hours and you feel like your legs are about to fall off. If you don't just collapse, that is. But, you must keep going. There will be time to rest tomorrow—when it is too hot.
  
  The stars and the moon flow gently to the west, but you don't even notice. You are too focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
  
  Suddenly, you see a straight black double line running perpendicular to your path. It looks like it might be the edge of a cliff so you approach it ever so slowly. When you're nearly upon it, you discover that it is higher than the rest of the ground around it.
  
  It's the tracks! You've found them! You really found them! They weren't nearly as far away as they looked. You feel great! You are KING!
  
  You turn toward the west—nearly skipping—and continue on your journey. Now all you have to do is find some water and some food, then you'll be all set.
  
  You watch as the sliver of moon finally disappears behind the black horizon and the stars start to twinkle just a tiny bit brighter. You can barely make out the rails on either side of you, but there's still more than enough light to guide you.
  
  You trudge on and on in the darkness. It feels somehow comforting to you now. Like you might be the only person in the whole world. The cloak of night is your friend, your companion.
  
  As the sky starts to gray, you can see farther and farther with each passing minute. There are no yard lights. No houses. No distant towns. No nothing. You feel completely alone now. It gives you a lump in your throat.
  
  The sun is on your back now and you can feel its rays trickling warmth into your rigid skin. You can't turn around to look at it. You have to save every last bit of your strength. You can barely lift your legs and the toes of your shoes scrub furrows in the dust. Still, you plod on.
  
  When you've nearly caught up with your shadow, you scan the area for some cool shade. You see a pile of old lumber out all by its lonesome. It may have been some kind of mining shack at one time, but it's impossible to tell. It's the only thing within sight and the two vertical boards won't offer any shade for hours yet, but you can't go on. You have to get off your feet so that means you have work to do.
  
  You stumble over and start dragging and prying boards from the ground as best you can. It takes some doing since half of them are buried in sand. You are just pulling up the last one when you see something shiny under it. You drop the board as you jump back thinking at first that it might be a snake. It couldn't be, though, it didn't even resemble anything that could even be alive.
  
  Sticking another board under the one you dropped so you don't have to stick your bare hand in there, you pry it up. It takes a moment for the sun's glare to clear from your eyes and then you see a magical treasure. It is a half-crushed tin cup that is about a third full of old water. It is dark and has a funny smell to it, but it's wet. You aren't sure that you should drink it, but you might die if you don't get water soon.
  
  > drink it
  This is life or death. You have no choice but to risk drinking it. You hold your nose against the foul stench and gulp it down. It isn't really that bad and sure beats dying.
  
  You go back to work and before long, you have something that resembles something that someone might accidentally mistake for a shack. It's more of a lean-to than anything, but at least there's shade.
  
  You get down on all fours and crawl through a narrow opening at the bottom. The ground is still hot and could possibly blister if you dally. Once inside, you scoop handful after handful off the top and shove it against the sides at the bottom. It'll help hold them up as well as give you a faintly cooler spot to lay down.
  
  Slumping over, something bites your little finger. It stings a little, but nothing serious. You push yourself back up and see a tiny scorpion right where your hand was so you slam your fist down on it and crush it before it can strike again. You don't see any others, so you lay down and look at the white sky through the cracks for a while to make yourself sleepy.
  
  You awake with a shiver and barely have the strength to raise yourself up. The sun is still high and your hand is throbbing something awful, but you barely notice that pain compared to the vise that has seized your stomach. Your belly writhes and tumbles in searing agony and besides that, you need water desperately and your tongue feels like sandpaper in your mouth.
  
  Pushing yourself back against the far wall so you can catch what little light filters through the cracks, you watch as the sun makes its ever so slow descent. You wrap your sweaty arms around your knees and hug them close to you in an attempt to ward off the shivers.
  
  Your hair is slicked against your temples and you're having trouble focusing. This just isn't going to be your day. You close your eyes and try to take in deep breaths, but hot air you suck in with each one just makes you feel that much worse.
  
  After a while, you open your eyes and between the vertical planks you can see the light fading from the sky. There are reds and oranges and pinks. Even through the slits, it is breathtaking. You only wish you could walk out to see the whole thing.
  
  You can barely move your head and it's impossible to move the rest of you. You can't take this anymore, but what choice do you have? You can only sit here to wait for the inevitable. Too bad you don't have a blanket, because it is getting so, so cold. Your teeth would chatter if you only had the energy to do so.
  
  The sky deepens and you can see the first twinkle of a star. You should make a wish. But, it's much too late for that. You know it as sure as you know anything at all. All you have left waiting for you is the inevitable.
  
  Maybe if you made the right wish, it might come true. You can't close your eyes to make the wish or you may never get them open again. You take a long, hard swallow and feel the sides of your throat scratch together.
  
  You focus hard on the star until you can feel it pulling back at you. You try to mouth the words, but you don't have the strength. Willing with everything you have—everything you are—you send your wish soaring toward that tiny pinprick of a speck—faster than the speed of light.
  
  Jane steps from the corner of your little makeshift shelter. She looks so beautiful, yet so sad. She kneels down beside you and stares deep into your eyes while you lose yourself in hers. You drown in those bright green eyes.
  
  She may not have gotten her wish, but you were granted yours.
  
  — The End