Stories from the desert...
Hot breezes assaulted me, the sun felt like pins on the back of my neck. No matter how much water I put on the plants, they always looked withered and sick. This was going to be my last week here.
Just like my mother, and her mother before her, this God forsaken place had sucked the life out of me, my skin was dry, my hair withered and cracked, my mind burnt, my thoughts singed. It had been so much better when you were here, I think. Maybe it was the fact that you'd put stars in my eyes and I couldn't see the deadness around me. The only difference, you didn't drag me here like my father and grandfather did to my predecessors.
I should have known better after all, I'd been wanting to leave this place since I was six. I should have known, love wouldn't hold you here. When you walked into the bait shop, my mind sent out a warning, a shield dropped over my heart, my eyes proceeded to devour you, you were beautiful, too beautiful for this dead place, I KNEW THAT... but I tore that shield down, I allowed you inside where you gave me life with your arms, you were my savior, my oasis from the dry life drinking heat. It was cooler then. I have a secret, I wonder sometimes if I had told you would you still have left? If you could see her, the big brown eyes, the dimples in her cheeks, would you still be here now?
Well, we lasted a lot longer than the tourist attraction did. I looked across at the Sea, the waters were four to five feet from what had been the shore line. It stank to high heaven from all the dead and dying fish, even the birds didn't come anymore.
The air was out again, sweat ran down the back of my neck, in the shade it was a miserable hundred and the low tonight.. what low? A car skidded into the lot. A man jumped out popped open the back door and released two screaming girls. I saw the problem, a black bee flew out behind them. I smiled.
After seeing to the customers, and making lunch for us, I shut down the shop. I was sweaty, I was dusty, a nice cool shower would do the trick.
As I turned to go inside, a dust devil, swirled across the lot, heading for somewhere. It swirled, kicked up more dust, then waddled along the roadway.
I was going to be like that, kicking up dust, heading for somewhere.
How many times had I said that?