The Second Lesson

At the broken rail, I stopped.

My head spun, it was difficult to focus. I could not stand. My tongue felt like sandpaper in my mouth. Thirst was a constant fire in my chest.

I sat, took off my sandals, crossed my legs, and waited.

From the start, I had felt watched, but I attributed that unsettling sensation to the eyes, which masked the truth. Someone was actually out there. To press on when I had already repeated ground several times was pointless. Eventually, they would show themselves. Or I would die of thirst.

Considering the distance I made after beginning the stair, it was not unreasonable to believe I was close to my destination. But whoever was out there did not want me to reach it. Ideas of calling out into the mist, or leaving the stair, trying to hide, all of these crossed my mind, but not once did giving up.

With hands resting on my knees, I had only to stay awake until they showed themselves. Another bludgeon to my head could cause irreparable damage.

I concentrated on the pain, listening.