Peru: A Narrative Fiction

Everyday, people come up to me and ask my story. Everyday, I tell them the same thing. “I am an old man,” I say, “I have no story that will interest you.”
In the years since the event, not once have I uttered words about the shoes. Not once have I thought about the misery I had to go through. Not once have I looked through any pictures of them. Not once. But here, now, today, I will tell you my story. My story begins in the blistering hot sun of Peru. I had come from a small, almost unknown town in the state of New Mexico. Work kept me away from my home, but whenever I had some leisure time, I tried to abscond there. See, I was a traveller, an explorer, an adventurer. I went to different places and discovered different artifacts. At twenty
Before the incident, I had been a very alert man. Not much got past me. After I had gotten out of the truck, I had surveyed my surroundings. The truck had stopped in front of a large cave. We had reached at night, and the only light source that we had were the headlights of the truck. I had peered into the cave using whatever light I had. The cave had been a circular arc with a dark blue, almost purple outline. It had looked as if it was at least two storeys high and about thirty feet wide. The depth of the cave had been unknown. The light of the truck had just continued into the depth of the cave. It was the biggest cave I had ever seen, and I had been intimidated. However, we had had a job, and we would complete it … or so I had thought. After we had gotten our equipment, we had lit three torches and entered the cave. Before we had entered, we had attached a tracking device on to the truck, which would hopefully help us find our way back. While walking, we had used our hands to scale the walls. I had went up ahead, a torch in one hand. Suddenly, my head had hit a wall. Then, I had looked behind me, and I had realized something. The cave had been caving inward, therefore it had ended up becoming narrower and