Fiction Creating

Thirst (-By Alan)

I trudged through the hot sand, lifting my feet slowly and wearily. The glaring sun blasted its rays into my eyes, the sweltering heat coming close to making me feel as if my body were lit on fire. An endless downpour of sweat trickled down my body, drenching my clothing and doing little to ease the heat. Persistent winds barraged my face with swift, far-flung sands, forcing me to shield myself from the flying dust. My stomach rumbled loudly, and I convulsed in pain, almost losing my balance. It’s been a long time since I’ve last ate. And I was also in desperate need of water. Looking around, I saw myself surrounded by miles and miles of sand, stretching as far as the eye could see. I was all alone in this place. It was hopeless, really. I wondered why I still persisted.

I kept walking, making stride after stride. The torturous day grew longer and hotter, I became thirstier, hungrier, wearier. Hours passed, and I continued to endure the long struggles. My legs began to feel heavy, my head and back starting to droop down, as if I were sleepwalking. I started having trouble with breathing, and I could hardly take the heat anymore. I thought I was going to die out here, all alone. I didn’t want to die..

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