The following text is taken from a travel magazine. It describes the writer's experience of being lost in a hostile landscape. The sun is still overhead. For brief moments, refracted through the heat waves on the right, I see villages, moving trucks, or a sweep of marsh. If I didn't have a compass, I might be tempted to walk straight into the mirage. Content removed due to copyright restrictions. I crouch down and look at the driver. He is ten metres away, sitting in front of his truck, staring right back at me. "Thank you, brother," I say, putting the lid down.