I left my last diary under a large, ruddy boulder. It stood in the middle of an endless desert. I have no hope of finding a chest, box or any other container for many more months, so I chose to just leave it in the sand this time around.

It happened in the morning while the Sun shone pale.

I spent some time looking at it, wondering if it was the type of place someone would dig around for something. I think it was.

I was still tired but I started walking, trudging through the red desert as the Sun rose and started burning my skin more and more.

A while after midday the wind picked up and the rust particles started flying. I always hate inhaling them, it feels as if my lungs are being ripped apart. A few times I coughed blood, it tasted salty and coppery.

I felt better after.

I continued walking until the evening, when the haze overhead started darkening.

Another day has gone. I've been looking at the sky for a few hours, but I couldn't see any stars.

It's time I sleep now.