The Arrival....
The Bedouin wrapped the red and white checkered shawl around his head to protect himself from the blistering sun bellowing its heat across the vastness. Sand, piled up in endless dunes, stretched across the horizon painting ribbons of gold and brown across the landscape. Here and there, the light rippled across the surface creating the never ending illusion of water rippling in the breeze. He turned his back to the west and stepped forth on a path known only to those who had made their life on this baron landscape.
Tethered to the Bedouin's lead, a caravan of camels stepping on a path that had been traveled by thousands before. Threading there way towards the journeys end, a smile on their faces with a secret that they only knew. As the sun relentlessly made its way across the sky, so the day gradually became unbearable. He stopped short and instructed his camel to kneel and swung his weight into the saddle strapped to its back and the camel resumed its march.
It had been five years since he had thread along this path and he wondered what would be in store. Would the trees and the shrubs be a familiar reprieve, or would it have all withered away and blown across the sands that would deny its existence? Would the well that provided precious water be dead and gone leaving behind the stone wall the telltale sign of its former existence? And what of the date palms with its feet firmly bedded in the soil, did they survive?
The silence was pierced by the sound if a raptor as the camel rounded the dune. Nestled below an island of shrubs and trees. The camels quickened there pace at the promise of slaking their thirst. Date palms bursting with fruit hung there crowns in submission. The well with its stone wall glistening with wetness and a promise of precious water.
The Bedouin smiled and turned his head to the heavens in gratitude. He had arrived :-)
Tethered to the Bedouin's lead, a caravan of camels stepping on a path that had been traveled by thousands before. Threading there way towards the journeys end, a smile on their faces with a secret that they only knew. As the sun relentlessly made its way across the sky, so the day gradually became unbearable. He stopped short and instructed his camel to kneel and swung his weight into the saddle strapped to its back and the camel resumed its march.
It had been five years since he had thread along this path and he wondered what would be in store. Would the trees and the shrubs be a familiar reprieve, or would it have all withered away and blown across the sands that would deny its existence? Would the well that provided precious water be dead and gone leaving behind the stone wall the telltale sign of its former existence? And what of the date palms with its feet firmly bedded in the soil, did they survive?
The silence was pierced by the sound if a raptor as the camel rounded the dune. Nestled below an island of shrubs and trees. The camels quickened there pace at the promise of slaking their thirst. Date palms bursting with fruit hung there crowns in submission. The well with its stone wall glistening with wetness and a promise of precious water.
The Bedouin smiled and turned his head to the heavens in gratitude. He had arrived :-)
My first attempt at a short story or should i say mini story
ReplyDeleteNot a shabby attempt at all. A part of it makes me think of the rolling hills described in Cry the Beloved country.
ReplyDeleteYour lanscapes are painted richly; will your protagonists be as colourful?
Would you liken yourself to Athol Fugard or are you inclined to Paulo Coelho? Or perhaps you are quitely, unassumingly YOU.