The Desert

The kerchief about his neck came loose at the gust of wind that brought dust into his eyes and mouth. He let go of the reigns to the horse to retie it behind his neck and position it protectively over his mouth and nose.

Day was nearly over, but it was dark prematurely with the thick clouds of dust that stretched for miles. He squinted hoping to see the landscape ahead in a brief break of the dust. There was a canyon ahead. He clicked his horse on to their new path and slowly clopped through the rock and sand.

There was just enough water left in his canteen to soothe his cracked lips, but he would save it for when he settled down for the night, which seemed would be sooner than he hoped. His attire clinked with each dip the horse made, but was hardly noticeable amidst the sounds around him. The wind, the howling through the rocks, shaking brush, and the occasional scuff of animals fleeing from the man.

He reached behind him for the pack he carried for his fire-starting supplies. He decided on making one tonight. He hoped no scavengers one would see his light. They would rob him blind and kill him at any chance they got.