Monday, 19 August 2013


We trudged alongside the furrow all day. Ivana's neck is bright red, and the back bulges out. The lump isn't hard: it ripples as she moves and bounces with each step. The skin is stretched so tightly it shines. It's repulsive. I don't know how she can bear it. Melanie spent the day muttering to herself and staring at her hand. I don't know what's wrong with her.

We lost another mule today. It just fell to its knees and wouldn't carry on. I left the supplies it was carrying there, along with food and water.

This can't go on. We have to go back. Tomorrow morning I'll talk to them.

Still no change in the stars.

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