A lone wanderer wakes up in an old mine, which is falling apart from years (perhaps decades) of disuse and empty of any other people. He remembers nothing about how he arrived there, or why, and begins to venture through it to leave. Upon finding the mine's entrance on the surface, the sun sets and he is given just enough time to see that he is in the middle of a giant desert expanse, with no discernible details elsewhere on the landscape before him. The cold quickly sets in, making the man aware of his attire: a worn out brown leather overcoat and rugged corduroy trousers. He retreats back into the mine, where he lights a fire and fashions a sleeping cot out of some burlap bags he found near some tools. Outside, an aggressive wind picks up, howling and rapping at the creaking wooden door on the mine's entrance. The wanderer puts up his coat's collar and lays down next to the fire, drifting off as he stares into it. The next day, he ventures out in the early morning hours, hoping to find his way back to civilization. Walking briskly at first, the sun soon takes its place above him and bears down on his neck and back, reducing the speed of his stride. Just as the evening begins to approach again, he sees a flag on the horizon line, fluttering lazily in the hot wind. He is hopeful, picking up his pace and taking measured breaths to maintain it. Upon arriving, he finds a waystation of some kind, with an old looking radio set that doesn't seem to produce anything but fuzz, and a leather-bound log book of some kind, filled with characters he cannot read or translate. The flag he observed earlier bore the same characters, and from the look of it, had been left to fly for a very long time. He builds another fire as nightfall arrives, then retreats into the outpost cabin to sleep. The next morning he is up again, and decides to take the strange log book with him. Within a couple hours, he finds a massive sunken area that could have once been a lake, now dried to the bone. Inside it are dozens and dozens of rusted ships' remains, some nearly whole and others just fragments of their former selves. Chunks of angular metal defiantly jut upward from under the sand, and the skeletal shapes remind the man about his own hunger. He cannot remember the last time he ate food, or even what it was. Slowly entering the dry lake, he sees a single mountain in the miles ahead of him. Although he has no reason to suspect it, something in his gut tells him he will find what he seeks there. Without hesitation, he begins his long walk toward the ominous peak...
released January 11, 2014
W/P by Brian Grainger. Recorded at 114RKD and Botany Bay, 2006-2013. Mastered by The Analog Botanist. This is Milieu Music number SD09, and 9th in the 24-part Sun-Day series.