Title's just random.

A desert valley. The sands have blown for millenia, the rocks slowly contributing to their games. The sun continues to gift the land far more than it can take, a fair trade carried out too long. Now it sips vitality like a straw, and has slurped until there is nothing left. There is no life -- even the bacteria that were omnipresent are no more. Tall, thin statues, just elongated heads, like easter island, sit, watching eternity.

And then, the skies contribute a tiny gift. A drop falls. As it plummets to earth, it passes through air that has known no motion for ages. It touches the sand, and is gone. Another drop, tiny missle, is released and flies true to the ground. The eighth drop was not alone -- it and the ninth came together, and reconvened deep in the soil. And then, the fifteenth drop falls. It does not strike the ground. It instead strikes the forehead of a statue. With no sound at all, white, milky eyes open, and survey the land.

I would write more, but my cat is licking the deodorant container on my desk. Weird imagery, eh?

Anyhow, it's up to you to interpret this entry. I might interpret for you later, it depends.

I am, however, in a good mood.