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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Drama · #677950
Follow Dave Mitchels into the desert, and his attempt to escape.
A Desert Journey



The sun shone like bright flames of a fire in the sky as Dave Mitchels rested underneath a shady rock. The rock was his only shelter from the sun’s brutal heat and magnitude. The jagged shape of the large rock cast a shadow on the desert ground, providing a place just wide enough for Mitchels to lay his back against and rest. He felt weak and fatigued because of lack of water and food. The day before, he had eaten a pitiful amount of dried fruit and meat.

Ever since ten in the morning, Mitchels had been lying against the rock. It was much too hot to travel during the day, so he spent the daytime in the shade of whatever he could find. Traveling would take place in the evening and right through the night. When it got too hot, he would rest in the shade. It would be another three nights until he would reach his final destination: a small camp called Aroriat, located in a fertile patch of land. From that camp, he would be able to travel back to Cape Town by jeep.

He had half of a large canister of water left, which was scarcely enough to get him to Aroriat. He took a few sips from the canister of water. Travelling would not continue until the sun had set.

When the sun finally set, he forced himself to stand up and start walking towards Aroriat. His steps were sluggish, and his breathing was heavy. Every step of the way brought him closer to civilization. The thought of jumping into a pool full of cold water made him more determined to get back to civilization. It was very lonely out in the desert. Not a single living thing was to be seen no matter which direction he looked. He remembered what it was like to be living back in Western Civilization. The drinks, the homes, and the faces of so many people seemed like distant memories to him. However, he had really only been in the desert for a day or two.

After a few hours, the sun began to rise. The air grew warmer and the sun shone brightly on his back. He scanned the horizon for anything that might be a good as a shelter against the sun. He found nothing. He walked further on, but did not come across any large rocks or trees or anything. The temperature rose considerably in the next few minutes. He began to frantically search for shelter. He walked in every direction but found nothing. His legs were so sore from walking for hours that they felt like they were tied to lead weights.

When he looked to the North he saw a big hill of sand about twenty feet high rising out of the sand. Maybe if he got to the top of the hill he would see more clearly if there was any shelter anywhere. He trudged to the hill and painfully forced himself up the steep sandy hill to the top. His feet sank deep into the sand as he made his way up. When he got to the top of it he saw to his relief that there was a big boulder about a hundred yards farther North.

He began to run towards it, but he didn’t realize that the other side of the hill was four times as steep as the side he had just climbed up. Down the hill he tumbled, spraying sand everywhere. As he tumbled he heard a crack and new that at least one of his bones was broken. When he reached the base of the hill, his body halted in a heap. Immediately after he stopped tumbling, sand began to pile down from the hill. It covered his whole body, exposing only his head. He tried to push the sand off him and sit himself upright, but without success. He gave an exasperated sigh. If only he wasn’t so hasty getting down the hill, than he might have made it to the rock. He felt tired all of a sudden. He closed his eyes and prayed that this would all just come to an end.

THE END

© Copyright 2003 John Littner (josephthl at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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