The Long Ride Home

The desert stretched in every direction with no end in sight.

“I'm thirsty,” said Abdul atop his camel. “Is anyone else here thirsty?”

Each and every Bedouin in the caravan rolled his eyes at precisely the same time. This had been going on for three days now. One man, Mohammad, began counting silently to 100.

“Hello!” said Abdul. “Anybody hear me?”

“We can all hear you!” said Mohammad. “If you want to keep your tongue, you should rest it for awhile.” Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen...

“Oh, threats! Great!” said Abdul.

Mohammad removed his dagger from its sheath beneath his robe. He ran his thumb along the hot curved steel and a trickle of blood instantly began snaking down his wrist where it fell to the hot white sand beneath his camel. By Allah, he would kill this after-birth of a hyena by morning even if he was the Sheik's nephew!

“Hey, Mohammad! Lets play the 'I Spot game', okay?” Abdul's voice was suddenly lit with good cheer. “I'll go first. This should be fun for everybody, okay? Ready? I spot...I spot... I spot Sand! Your turn!”

Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three...

“Come on you guys!”

Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine...

"You guys going to play or not? Fine! I win! By the way, are you all absolutely completely positive we aren't walking in circles? I could swear that sand dune looks awfully familiar!"

The ride through the desert became easier after Abdul fell from his camel and somehow slit his throat from ear to ear. It was a tragedy that would have to be explained to the Sheik, but that didn't keep the Bedouins from breaking into a boisterous song of 1000 Infidels on the Wall which they sang all the way home.

-299 Words-