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Day #6
Greed is good! Write a story or poem or create artwork that will prove or disprove this statement.
Waste
It wasn't fair, thought the former Master of Laketown as his hands caressed the leather of one of the two bags that held the golden coins. That one thudded against his chest with one step, while the other banged into his back with the next in a rhythm that had him lurching, not walking. Still, knowing they were close was both a relief and a frustration, as was the idea that such riches could be so easily within reach, and yet so useless in providing for his ease.
The corpse of his pony lay just far enough behind that he need not be bothered with the blowflies or the carrion birds. But the thong that held the gold bags pendant over his shoulder was a painful bond indeed, and he rued the loss of the miserable beast he'd taken to speed his flight in the night. He should have stolen a better steed!
This third day of his attempt to cross the Wastes promised to be as hot as the previous one, and his steps came slowly and dragged more and more as the merciless sun beat down on him. All it took was a stone the same color as the sand, invisible to eyes burning from the sweat that dripped into them constantly, to have him fall face down in the dust.
The Master raised his head to look with longing at the shimmer of water less than a hundred paces away. It was an illusion, he knew now, one he had been chasing for hours.
He struggled to regain his feet, but found that the only way he could actually rise was if he left behind the heavy bags of gold where they had fallen.
He fell once more
only a few minutes later, and never rose again.
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