We had made it only two miles from the plane before I called the others to stop. They stood around me, sipping water and mumbling words of encouragement as I gasped for breath on my knees. I said nothing back because I knew all I wanted to say was that I couldn’t go on, that I had never felt this bad, that the road ahead would defeat me without even noticing I had trodden on it with my weak and trembling feet, that I had made a mistake, that I was cold and hungry, that I was fantasizing about what giving up would feel like, that there would probably be other ships, that I was already dealing
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