Monday, April 8, 2013

Relentless Sand

"Once upon a time, there was a young boy named Tseya who lived in a little hut, perched on the edge of the desert.  Actually, his home sat nestled on the border between a vast stretch of ocher sand and an emerald oasis.  Out one window, Tseya could watch a dune lark tease a barking gecko at the water's edge, marveling as the little lizard licked his eyes clean of the Namib's pervasive sand.  Or he could peer out the front door, counting the empty rolling hills of sand for as far as his six-year old eyes could see.

In the morning, Tseya loves to step out his front door with his basket of sticks and bowls and sit in the shade of the front porch, digging holes and trenches for his imaginary city of Lilonga.  Kneeling on the water's edge at the back of his home, he dips his dish in the precious watering hole and trudges back to the desert-side, filling his hand-made reservoirs.  Before his very eyes, the water is wicked away, seeping into the the thirsty soil.

At the sound of his mother's voice, Tseya scurries to the kitchen for a lunch of porridge before heading back out into the piercing sun to dig more trenches and fetch fresh water, but always with the same dusty result.  The moisture melts away before his eyes.

As the sun sets, Tseya shuffles to bed, a trail of desert following him to his room.  His sleep is deep and he awakes rested and excited to work in the sand again, hoping to bring life to his gritty front door.  Today is much like yesterday and the day before and the day before that.  He works hard at his play and at the end of the day he trudges wearily back to his sandy pillow.

Soon Tseya's home is filled with sand, emptied from his sandals, dumped from the folds of his clothes, brushed from his hair and his feet.  He watches his home disappear under a rippled layer of the Namib; weary from his work of digging and fetching, he is unable to stop the relentless pursuit of the desert to bury him.

And that, Ty, that is why we shake out our shoes before coming in the house after playing in the sand box.  Personally, I don't want to be buried in my sleep under a layer of grit."

Ty scowls and sits up in his bed.  "Mom!  That's not a real story.  I want a real bedtime story, something about a dragon or a knight.  Please?"  He squirms under his comforter for a moment before pulling back his covers and brushing a pile of sand off his sheet.  "What if I promise to take off my shoes on the front porch tomorrow?"

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

"Okay.  Once upon a time there was a dragon named Sandy..."

"Mom!"

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Linking up with Write at the Merge this week - inspired by the picture above.



14 comments:

  1. love it. you had me wondering. heh heh. always the storyteller... have names been changed to protect the innocent?

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    1. Well ... we do seem to track a lot of the outside inside, but this is purely a fictional story. But I didn't have to dig to deep for inspiration!

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  2. That was brilliant and made me chuckle, reminding me of bedtime stories and gentle teasing from my own life. Dragon called Sandy indeed :D

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    1. Thank you --- the mommy in me only saw sand to clean up in that photo. A lot of sand and one potentially guilty little kid. :)

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  3. I simply loved this-and if I'm ever lucky enough to get to live near the beach, the same rule will apply... I'll make sure to shake my shoes out before coming inside too, just to be safe;)

    Great take on the prompt!!

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  4. Ha! Sandy the Dragon indeed! I loved both the actual tale of the desert boy and the fun twist at the end that made me smile.

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  5. Oh, nicely done! I was left with a grin. :-)

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  6. So very fun! I like to tease my kids at bedtime, too, and this is a perfect tale of the dangers of tracking sand into the house over and over. The story part is very well done. I would have enjoyed it even without the twist of it being a story within a story.

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  7. Nicely done! And, like Renee, I too was left grinning. Ah...bedtime stories that stay with you a life-time. Nice twist, enjoyable read. Thank you.

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  8. So sweet! And I'm a sucker for a story within a story.

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  9. What an absolute delight of a story. You amaze me. I don't get to participate as much as I'd like anymore, but you are one of my favorites. You never fail to surprise me and I love it. this story danced, first with a slow and curious rhythm, but then, it began to pick up some speed...as did my heart when the sand began to increase, but you spun me around in a nice giggly twirl when I got to the end. Well done!!!

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