Sevreh

No chart will bring you here; only the well-song, ridge by ridge, four days into the sand.

I reach Sevreh four days out of Aurel-Khar with no chart that ever showed it, following a well-road sung to me verse by verse — a turn of the wrist for each ridge, a held note for each dry stretch. And the oasis is exactly where the song put it: a stand of palms, a closed caravan…