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A weary traveller and a windswept desert seemed made for each other, one without the other as though the ingredients of a cake laid out in a pantry. Waiting.

The traveller was well travelled but even in familiarity lied danger. One missed beacon, one starless night, food running out amidst the endless blight with no end in sight.

And as he trudged on one foot before the next, he chances across a vision, two stumps in the sand. Surely not civilization and probably not salvation yet curiousity must be sated even before thirst.

Upon a great stone platform jutting from the sands stood two collosal stone feet, cut off at the heels. Where the rest of this collosal stone man had gone only time could know, but on the platform were written the words “First comment!”.