Excerpt from "Through Painted Deserts" part 1

I ease my aching body from my sleeping bag and stretch my back. I reach for the sky and yawn. Rolling over, I set my hands against the ground and stand. I feel the bones in my back and my ribs separate from each other. My legs are stiff and my feet are jolted within by sharp points of pain. My belly is empty and past hungry. Paul is sitting out in the dirt about twenty yards away, out in some sunlight. "You were right about the cereal, Paul." "What's that?" "The cereal. Being the best thing to eat right now. I could go for a big bowl of Raisin Bran and cold milk. I might even take that over the eggs and tortillas." "Now you're coming around." Paul gets up and leans forward to stretch his back. "You know," Paul beings, "it's funny. Two weeks ago when we talked about things we wanted or our aspirations, we would have talked about houses or boats or cars. Now that we've been on the road for a while, everything is reduced to a bowl of cereal." Paul develops a smile as e stands straight. "Isn't that beautiful? Cereal. There are people in this world who are killing themselves because they want more and more of nothing. And the only thing you and I want in this word is a bowl of cereal. That just shows you how the things we think are important really aren't important." "And a boat," I say. "What's that?" Paul asks. "I wouldn't mind a boat," I tell him. "A nice, big sailing boat with a wooden hull. I'd like to eat my cereal on my boat." Paul rolls his eyes and shakes his head at me.

(From page 122 and 123 of "Through Painted Deserts" by Donald Miller.)