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Weekly Contest #247
August 12th, 1987 Dear Mom,We made it, Mom! The "Whiteout" as they call it on those old, dog-eared maps is anything but. Endless dunes of sand, the color of sun-bleached parchment, stretch out forever. Feels like walking on another world, silent and strange, but beautiful in a way that would make Achilles weep, if that's not too dramatic. Just us, the wind, and the endless sky. Like a scene straight out of the Iliad, minus the bronze armor and the whole "epic rage" thing.The team's a tight crew – me, Dr. Anya Petrova (geology wiz with a mane...
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