Lost in the Desert

I once again find myself wandering through a creative desert.  My fingers are parched and crave a steady stream of words to quench their thirst.  Ideas and stories appear on the horizon, but they turn out to be nothing more than cruel mirages.  I don't know where my fingers will take me, but I trust their sense of direction, so I follow.  My creativity sustains life with small sips along the way, but I find myself returning to the same well again and again hoping this time it yields more than temporary relief.  It's easy to give up; to just lie down and let the vulchers take what remains.  Would anyone miss it?  Would anyone even know it's gone?  I suppose one or two people might send out a search party.  There are answers they seek that only my fingers know.  So I drink what I can along the way and forge ahead determined to find a destination that breathes new life into my weary hands.