The shack was always dead, even when built, whenever that may be, to this point there is no memory of that time. Dying, the only necessary word to describe the owner, though no one does so, the only human voice is his own, altleast thats what he thought. Islands of rock, looked past so commonly even colour doesn't fit it, seperated by time and air, these ravines only frown. The Giants even keep their distance halting in the distant mist, the remaining clouds quiver around the summits, dawnting from journeys away. Only stars smile here, because of the distance they fly from, this corrpution hasn't reached them, yet. Evolution is extinct and its concept lost, the world he lives in, surrounds him, a mocking glare, for those who take it, this is his home. Though it sounds sinister it is much worse than that, if a word existed to sum up this world, even God would kill the user.

His father, a great victim of the anamosity this world freely gives, a great coward to those conscious he exists, a great hero to his son. Those weak die, those strong also die, those determined die quicker, those cautious live longer, but still die. That's the inspiration of his father, and the only message Jake has lived with. Jakes father also mined, teaching jake all the secrets, tricks, as his whole life was based around it, you could call him a master smith, or a silent requiem.

A gentle breeze, an eye for miles in all directions, and the pale brown rock gather to make home, for Jake. His legs drag along again, across the hard, still landscape towards the same giant, no longer dawnting it looks away in envy. Its same rocks huddle together creating steep, sharp slopes making its ascent impossible blocking the exit. In that slope, facing Jake, a small hole in the shape of an oval was roughly hacked in place with no real purpose Jake and his father used it as the mine, their source of living. The entrance to the mine may be small but in comparison to its content it is irrelevant. In the back of Jakes hand this mines complex structure easily is remembered, almost involuntarily he scales the slow, heavy tunnels. Jake stumbles into the deep, the repeated walls, and its pattern all relate to Jake, their memory is thick in the surface of his mind and forgetting them seemed impossible. Sudden dips and rises shake the passage, these abnormalities spike regret into those unfamiliar, or even fear, with its paths, not that anyone would be. An ordinary being would feel the weight of the air in this maze, an unbearable pain sending weak hearts insane, the contents of this mine gives people a different sense in what death means, not a thing to avoid, but a gift given, that is the thoughts of a human driven by the curse this place hangs. Not Jake. Never. This mine is yet another job, the journey to his destination is absolute and no curse affects his mind, not anymore, this mine is seen as place of hope, no one really knows the true structure of it. A new discovery could be at every corner, is what he thought, his father didn't, strictly forcing his hope back to its lonely corner.

On went Jake, time passed differently here, time didn't pass, it was dragged, as if even time tried to get away. Jake reached his corner. Dragging the pickaxe across the old, worn rock. Styled by his father Jake kept it as a memory, quickly losing his true intentions for it. One swing, his scrawny arms already ached, his skin felt like extra weight while mining , his bones scraping slowly between each other as he swung once more. After the silence of the journey his hits felt like hits to his own head, dizzying himself, clouding his vision with more mist.

Hours pass, not that it matters, Jake can stay here for days, his hunger and thirst are the most reliable clock in the mines. Still shrouded in darkness not even his pickaxe is seen, his own body may as well be invisible, the darkness seems to swallow him, after a few rounds of chewng. Jake holds the thick lump of rock, its surface is cold and smooth proving its difference, the size of a tennis ball this ore is common in the mines. Copper, most of his weapons and tools made of it showing the same dull colour, its disapointing appearance only lowers Jakes head further. He makes his exit feeling tightness in his stomach, another waste, or another oppurtunity, he can no longer tell the difference.

Recently Jake has felt a weird sensation, an alien senstion he's never really felt before, most of his life being in isolation, it is his natural desperation for company. For many years, 20 to be prescise, he has lived alone and never seemed to mind, becsue of his fathers attitude to it, he followed his lead. But he isn't his father and Jakes attitude towards life was always opposite to his Dads, his Dad saw company as a waste of time and a flaw to his concentration. Jake, however longed company, he longed variation and difference, not showing it, but his passion for another being to come across him, was ever growing and spreading vastly among his mind, soon becomong the only thing on his mind.

Shaking it away once more, Jake advances across the dessert, his face to the ground, but his eyes up high, stumbling towards the shack a small speck behind the dessert mist carefulling wallowing through slices in the floor. Melting orange droops over the horizon, a red sphere of dim light staring curiously along the vastness, when the sun sets, a totally different world is created, every bland outline becomes bold, pigments of orange, yellow and red create dark shadows among the rocks, colour spreads through the sky becoming darker the further away from the horizon acting like heaven.

Jake pauses, staring in awe every single time this world is transformed, sunsets are rare as the desert mists and sand storms block it off causing a pale ball to vaguely shine through them. Darkness falls and Jake continues a lighter step about him. He soon reaches the shack but darkness has already fell, the dessert floor, white and glowing, it surprises the night sky radiating dim light, this creates a slow, calm and cold atmosphere making beasts and beings to chill out, and to feel wanted, by the stars. The stars give Jake sense of hope as does many light things, the stars look at the world in a bright way, as seeing a bright future for it, but still keeping distance to avoid its corruption. As Jake stares at the sky, he washes his face before the red light of the fire, the brown water runs down his musclar, dusty face, all his facial muscles shake and his bones rumble, after a shift in the mine his body feels weak as if, if he falls he'll snap in half. Tumble weed packed together tightly make his bed, his bed is opposite the hole known as the window, to the left of the bed is the doorway, also a hole, weapons hang on the wall opposite the doorway, swords, sheilds, axes, and pickaxes mostly, though few hang on the wall because of the ancient wood holding the shack together.

Jake lies staring at the ceiling, a dim light luminates through the window, his face glows in the light and all Jake can think about is the sunset. The globe of pure gold resting upon the edge of the world, everytime the sun sets, no matter how frequent, it still lights up his day and his world, even at the inescapable depths it has reached. The small shack, ending the little variety of the dessert, is the only place Jake can call home. The place he grew up in under the force of his father and the place he still lies under the force of himself, no other place could be suited for him, not even the thought of moving out, crossing the deadly vastness to find a new life, or civilisation, would ever happen in his state of mind even if his thirst for company became unbearable. He still lies letting his thoughts flow, a colder breeze strokes his half naked body, it spikes up his skin sending his body pale, although Jake pays no attention to it lost in his thoghts for the future and today.

The night carries giving no sleep to Jake whom lies awake, on his side small spines of tumble weed tickling his ribs, his eyes glance through hole showing the spire of a moutnain, another mocking grin to those who cannot reach its eerie heights. But Jakes eyes stare straight through this glare, his mind fixed on the thought of people. What would they look like? Him? His father? Or a totally different concept all together? He sends it away to think of how they would act. What are they interested in? Why are there none of them? Why is he so interested? He grunts, a fowl grunt associated in both anger, selfishness, and confusion, but of course inpatience, but most of all, self disbelief. He minimally believes in himself, though he really wants to cross the dessert, how can he? He's practically unable, and, he's too weak minded, hearted, he would never make it, and whats the point of attempting if he never makes it? All these thoughts flower through his mind, as once again, he discards it, and gives up, leaving it to the gods to stare on in frustration!

"Why do I care!?" He moans to himself, still staring onwards, with those same bland eyes, to those same blands mountains.

Another groan follows, more of a deep sigh he rolls over identifying the splinters on the wooden wall. The deep sky unaccessable by Jakes eye dances in a slow line around the rock. The careful breeze cautiously flows through the empty space surprised by the cabin ahead. The white rock sincerely glows trying ever so hard to get noticed by the dim stars looking away, they glint and sparkle ever so wonderous and dense the sky could be white, each star has a spoiled attitude towards them looking away and paying no attention to the planet, as there are many more gorgeous planets to observe of their own. Stars change, at the start of the night the old stars curiously respect every planet, even if they are frequently observed. But the newer stars are only interested in the beautiful planets, such as themselves, they don't even look on to the older suns, although bigger, too dull and orange for them, of course. Jake knows this better than all people frequently resting under the old stars and observing the new ones, judging them as they judged him. Although Jake seems dull, deep inside, very deep, in everyone especially Jake, happiness thrives, and soon it may grow.

Now asleep, Jake breaths slowly distressing a root of tumble weed beating back and forth in the warm air. The pale sun, hangs on the edge of the world, waiting for something new to happen.