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Editorial: In just seventy-eight hours of travel, Harrison has his first horror baptism as his cloths and body are soiled with blood. It is the blood of his travel mate and fellow country folk.

This blood shower is nothing in this trip compared to the torture of crossing the oven-hot Sahara, a desert terribly low on water combined with the flaming rage of crazy rebels. There is also the nightmarish life with the fiendish Libyan merchants who are never convinced from making excess and cruel gains by human trafficking. And as a death trap, the Mediterranean lies in wait for any the rest escapee.

Only one source of consolation remains for Harrison. And this is denial of reality. He must think about not how he is going to die on the trip but about how he will succeed.

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