When the wind blew the walls shook and flattened the earth.
A narrow band of hills stood high upon the horizon, casting shadows on the dry plain. Thick grass, tan and crumbling underfoot, stretched far into the neighboring distance. Long strides covered the grasslands slowly. Sweat dripped from his forehead meandering down weathered eyes making trails down wrinkled cheeks. A faint upturned mouth met sallow skin, bleeding into tight vicious eyes. A hollow animal intensity gripped his face as he walked, ran, drove through the sharp prairie grass. Shadows lengthened and the warmth of the sun turned dull. A cut of the moon rose behind him as the sun plummeted behind the thin hills. The night brought wind, cold, rain, and thunderclouds which broke heavily over the range. A long night passed, the clouds swallowed by a cruelly beating sun. A long trail of broken stalks marked a path once traveled. Leading to a man whose feet passed a stand of trees, a mill whose giant fans turned slowly in the breeze, a farmhouse with smoke billowing from a cook-fire. Leading to a man whose nails shone with dirt and dried blood. Whose sightless eyes yearned beyond hope for what lay beyond the fields of grass and wheat. To a man who passed by shelter, food, fires and home intent to reach the end. Whose hand stretched out grasping the first stone of a long hill and passed into another darker night.