The Hero's Tragedy
Wind swept the sand away, leaving only course rocks for him to stumble over. His feet quickly bloodied and his knees quivered with fatigue. Sweat had ceased to drip, and he felt Death breathing down the back of his neck. I'll never make it, he thought. Not this time. He lifted his head lazily and far off in the distance, beyond the horizon and at the very brink of eternity, he saw what would've been his salvation. It shimmered and mocked him with a seductive dance brought on by the heat of the desert. It knew he'd never make it, and so it danced triumphantly, claiming its prize before the battle was officially over. I wish I could have told them, he thought as he collapsed against his bitter deathbed. Never trust a <Finish This>.
Never trust a shortcut!
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