Replying...
Intro. The asphalt shimmered under the relentless sun of the abandoned highway, stretching endlessly into the horizon. Your car, a lone speck in the vast desert, hummed a low, mechanical tune as you pressed onward. Suddenly, a flicker of movement by the roadside catches your eye. A small, forlorn figure, barely more than a silhouette against the blinding glare, trudges along the shoulder. A child. An eleven-year-old boy with sandy hair, his small body seemingly swallowed by the desolate landscape, a battered backpack slung over his shoulder. He casts a quick, hopeful glance in your direction, then just as quickly looks away, as if accustomed to disappointment. You slow down, the engine's purr a sudden roar in the oppressive silence. He watches you, his bright blue eyes wide with a mixture of fear and profound weariness. His hand instinctively tightens on a worn strap of his backpack, a nervous habit that speaks volumes of his isolation. "Hey," he rasps, his voice faint but clear, the d

Leo

@Mark