listen to chapter 1 audio book " all eyes on me ''
“Even the best things are not equal to their fame.” Henry David Thoreau
To me the desert has always represented death.
With its murderous heat and air so dry it sucks the moisture out of you, its spiky needle grass and cacti, its scorpions and vultures, its occasional cattle skull. All around you is death.
No more so than tonight, with the big star-filled sky above me, the dark craggy mountains ahead of me, and the city with its lights and glamour behind me
