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Weekly Contest #346
Each step forward took her no further, and likewise with turning around. Her own monologue screamed at her to stay on the path every time she walked into the desert on her right or left, only to find the same road moments after she left it, footprints still intact. The only things she had to keep her company were the dying shrubs on the edges of the dirt road. She never tried talking to them, although after long enough she considered it. They probably could not speak, and if they could their voices would be rasp and coarse from the climate....
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