thewatchmaker: (Unf)
I tried to convince myself the jungle had been worse with the humidity, the buzzing mosquitoes, the spiders that were bigger than my hand, but at least there, there had been shade.

The desert was an endless gravel pit of beige sand. No oasis filled with palm trees and cool water was waiting for me. No genie’s lamp was waiting for me to polish. There were no wishes for Sylar.

When my bare feet, cut and burning from the heat, hit the asphalt I thought I’d found heaven, I was on a road. A road meant civilization. It meant hope.

100 Drabbles of Summer Master List