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Saturday, July 30, 2011

the desert.

My eyes flicker open, and the images around me fade into reality. Miles of sand stretch from one horizon to the other. It smells hot… and the drift of clouds is already dissipating overhead. A scorched sun rises through, and threatens to devour my world into infinite flames. Rushes of sweat are already trickling down my face… and I don’t know how I got here, but I know it’s not where I’m supposed to be. I have no shoes on, and what once was a dress, now hangs in black threads around me. A vulture circles overhead, smiling.

I try to stand, but my legs shake wildly and give out. So I crawl, slowly and without purpose, in no discernable direction. I will not die without a fight. Hours of dragging my knees has made them raw and with every movement, I grind more sand deep into the scrapes. Bloody handprints follow me everywhere, and I consider giving up, until the vulture calls to me. I look up with my last molecule of energy, and see him sitting carelessly by a murky puddle of water, still smiling, although not so morbid this time. He tucks his head down low, as if to beckon me forward, and I obey, slithering furiously to his side as he takes to the sky once more, and leaves me there alone.

I drink in desperate rushes, choking myself with a greedy thirst. In flickers a memory, wiping cum from my lips with the back of my hand, the same motion I use to wipe the water now. The same satisfying grin, of a potent desire fulfilled. Without warning, and almost as a direct reaction to my reminiscence, the sun burns with a new fury. I splash a few more drops across my face idly, marveling in the tactility of it all, before the torrid demons swirl in. Deep red and scorched, they turn my water to steam. Floating away in waves of heat, I sit, defeated. . I can still feel the steam, the heated weight of the air around me. The rising wisps and whispers of what was once there. I can feel it… but I cannot touch it. Cannot hold it in my hand.

I sink to the ground, and try to cry, but no tears can be made. So I begin tugging pointlessly at the ripped clothing around me, as though the simple repetitive motion could cure my death. It won't. This place will surely hold my last breath... an inescapable tomb of dust.

The vulture is back. Laughing at me as it all goes dark. At least he wont go hungry.

7 comments:

achigurh said...

that was a good read !
i like what you do

jon said...

made me horny lmfao

chaser said...

having followed now, for a relatively informed period, I begin to realize watching your development is not unlike jello solidifying...and I smile imagining the jiggle

rivercat said...

I think this would be an intelligent way to die quickly in a hopeless situation. One of the last thoughts being a mind mirage of lust was of course a brilliant way to end the suffering by bringing on those ignorant demons.
Amazing :)

Know/be said...

Don't think that you are, know that you are beautiful, intelligent, provocative, so you can be whatever you want to be, and someone will love you for what you are and not for what he wants you to be. so be the best that you already are. is because of that, "(s)he" likes you.

Anonymous said...

8 9 10

LupineLooPine said...

Nice imagery. It's very dark... I'm very impressed.

if you happen to be a billionaire...