In no way do I claim any historical validity for my story, but in my tale, the droughts gives rise to a singularly unpleasant death cult. A symptom of...the collapse maybe, more than the cause...Strides-to-Distant-Lands-and-Sees – Farwalker - stood on the rim of canyon at sunrise.His long journey to the Dwelling Place had been in vain.He knew from the smell. The sweet odor of burnt flesh.He closed his eyes for a second, sending out a silent prayer.The long handled axe seemed to shift in his hand. It was a nice try but I knew it wasn't going to work. Dan is about 6' tall and 200 pounds. He asked if I remembered his Halloween dance costume when he dressed as Abraham Lincoln. He insisted that with wearing an old shirt of his with a loose vest and the beard from his costume, nobody would pay any attention to me. He gave me the puppy dog look with his eyes and I agreed to try it. But I told him if the outfit looked totally silly then I would came back dressed as I was.At home I gathered up. More

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