A feeling of nausea permeates his guts and he rolls to his stomach and vomits up a creamy white liquid. Its smell is over-powering and he vomits again and again until his stomach has no other offering to give to the soil. He stares at it as if in a dream and it bubbles and sizzles, like the hydrochloric acid is eating the dirt. His throat burns like he sipped molten magma and he dry heaves until his eyes water.
He is finally able to catch his breath and he sits up and looking around, feels despondent. Beside him on the ground is an old shovel with a rusty metal blade on it, but that is about all he can make of it. Standing shakily to his feet, he looks around again. He lifts his nose and smells and his eyes go wide when the cool smell of water passes over his hair-covered face and enters his wide nostrils.
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