Desert Sun

Writing Club

Oct 22, 2013

Prompt: Write about something as though you love it and write about something as though you hate it.

I chose to write about the sun.

As the sun set blood red, I was loathe to see it go.  And yet, I was free of its scorching blast.  But night had come as it always would every revolution.  All day I had been baked into a listless leaf parched of water to the point I could not swallow, cursing my empty water bottle and the relentless orb’s inescapable light.  All pervasive, the grand ruler of this wasteland, no cloud dared to cover its golden shimmer to provide even a moment’s ease.  And the irony of it now was that I found myself seeking its bright return, counting the hours I must shiver until my teeth cracked in the absent light of the new moon.  As I stumbled along the rough ground, my toes seemed to find all kinds of hidden things in the sand so easily spotted in the light of day, sending me stumbling, scurrying, splayed and spilling, spit out and bloody upon this cursed land.

            Come sun and take away the unending dark with your golden glow.  Yet I, the newly made nomad must carry on through the inky night for I cannot survive on evening’s dew.  I’ve miles to go on desert sand to pass through this ocean of land. 

            For tomorrow the sun will rise again, a false prophet of flowing dreams to wet my leaden tongue, one more rise of the horizon to that evaporating oasis hidden between the dunes.