The Plain in Flames by Juan Rulfo

After walking for so many hours without coming upon even the shadow of a tree, not even the seed of a tree, not even a root of anything, you can hear dogs barking.

You might sometimes think, in the middle of this edgeless road, that there would be nothing after it; that you would find nothing on the other side, at the end of this plain split with cracks and dried arroyos. But yes, there's something. There's a village. You can hear the dogs barking and feel the smoke in the air, and relish the smell of people as if it were a hope.