Once More

He woke in the middle of the blasted plain. Sand and shards of rock spread out in all directions, a horizon empty of even the slightest break in its monotony. He was clad in rags, scorched and dirty, and the sand was uncomfortably warm. There was a ringing in his ears.

"Hello?" he called. "Anyone out there?"

Some time passed.

"I suppose it's up to me, then," he said. He squatted on his hanches, picked up a rock, and carefully placed it beside another. "We'll try it again," he said, doodling idly in the sand. A pattern began to emerge.