Sorry, my lovely journal, I don't have a story for you today. I'm sorry, I'm having trouble focusing right now. I lost the caravan. I don't remember how. Right now, it's blistering, and my feet are leathery, but I know it'll soon grow cold. It has for a while now. I think I miss someone, but I can't remember a name. It's an empty feeling; I don't like it.
Until tomorrow,
Hopefully I'll remember
YOU ARE READING
Accounts of History from the Immortal Traveler
Ficção Histórica"Living forever, to say the least, gets complicated. While often romanticized in today's media as a miraculous gift. Even I don't know if that's the case, and I've been here for quite a while." That was the first line in a journal documenting the dr...
