The road runs straight as a die across the endless sands, the heat haze shimmering above the blacktop. Out of the blinding glare a sign comes into view, freshly painted but already showing signs of weathering. It reads
Nog's Blog
Population 1
Last truck stop and diner before the next one.
So here you are. The why of it escapes me, but welcome, traveller, to my humble abode.
