If I ever get lost in the red mountains of the desert, don’t come trying to find me. For most certainly, death has found me first and I don’t want her to find you in this hot dry passage, don’t come find death. I don’t want you to see my shrunken, sunburnt, dead body lying down in this brown crystal tomb.
I know the desert is ungrateful. It’s a place that can curse you back if you but raise your tone at it in a fit of rage from thirst.
The heat of the desert is no place to be by yourself. It is best to stay in your home. It is best to forget the desert. Best to forget me.