Rocks. Literally rocks everywhere. Left, rocks. Right, rocks, straight ahead, rocks. Behind, rocks. I am trapped in a world of stone and sand and rocks and pebbles. And it goes on like this for miles and miles and miles and miles… I think you get the point. It is absolutely rocky; in the sense of the physical surroundings as well as my mental state of mind. I thought I was supposed to be in a desert. I thought this concept was that there would be sand for miles around. Some course, some soft as a rabbit. I thought I would be trudging through, attempting to keep my footing and trying my hardest not to start sinking in. That’s what everyone tells you anyways; your friends, or family and, of course, Hollywood. Deserts are just sand and more sand. Nope. They were wrong. Look at them all being wrong.

Sure, there is some sand here and there, and, technically, all of these rocks are, mostly, made of sandstone and will eventually erode down to sand, but the solid surfaces greatly out number the soft fluff of sand that is dotting the landscape here and there.

But again, I’m off track. I can’t be talking about this strange world for the sand. I’m focused on the rocks. They are still everywhere, all around, and I am totally lost. I can’t remember if I came from the east, west, south or north. I can’t remember which rocky structure I have passed, and which ones that I haven’t. In this weird, alien world, direction seemingly alludes me and everything looks the same, no matter how different things really are. My hands tighten into fists and I fall to my knees. Where am I? Why are there so many rocks? Why didn’t I bring something to navigate? This rocky desert is nothing that I had ever expected.