Friday, January 18, 2013

Desert ride

Hot.  Bright.  Grit.

The sun was on my skin and in my eyes.  So was the gravel.  Blinking my eyes open felt like shredding their surface with the tines of a fork. 

The first thing I saw past the white wall of light was the slowly turning wheel of my bicycle.  A Bicycle playing card stuck in the spokes tinked out the passage of time.  I wondered how long the wheel had been turning.  I wondered a lot of things.

Where were my shoes?  Judging by the bright yellow sundress I had on, I guessed that sandals had covered my feet at some point.  I picked up my bike and checked the wicker basket strapped to the front.  Empty.  No shoes.  No water. 

Looking around, I tried to decide which would be the bigger problem.  I was on a road twining through a sea of sand.  Other than myself, the only living things I saw were a few brave cacti.  Even they looked hot and tired.

Which way to head?  Both directions looked equally uninviting. 

Then I realized I had to have come from somewhere.  So I turned my bike around.  If I made it here, I can make it back.  Right?

I wish I would stop sleep walking.

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