The Desert

The desert sand stretched in every direction with no end in sight.

“I'm thirsty,” said Abdul atop his camel. “Is anyone else here thirsty?”
Each and every Bedouin in the caravan rolled his eyes. This had been going on for three days. One man, Mohammad, began counting to 100


“Hello!” said Abdul. “Anybody hear me?”

“We can all hear you!” said Mohammad. “If you want to keep your tongue, you should rest it for awhile.” Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen.

“Oh, threats! Great!” said Abdul.

By Allah, he would kill this after-birth of a hyena by morning even if he was the Sheik's nephew. Mohammad removed his dagger from its sheath beneath his robe. He ran his thumb along the hot curved steel and a trickle of blood instantly began snaking down his wrist where it fell to the hot white sand beneath his camel.
“Hey, Mohammad! Lets play the 'I Spot game', okay?” Abdul's voice was suddenly lit with good cheer. “I'll go first. This should be fun for everybody, okay? Ready? I spot...I spot... I spot Sand! Your turn!”

Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three...

“Come on you guys!”

Thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine...

"You guys going to play or not? Fine! I win! By the way, are you all absolutely completely positive we aren't walking in circles? I could swear that sand dune looks awfully familiar!

The ride through the desert became easier after Abdul fell so suddenly from his camel and slit his throat ear to ear. It was a tragedy that would have to be explained to the Sheik, but that didn't keep the Bedouins from breaking into a boisterous song of 1000 Infidels on the Wall which they sang all the way home.

-292 Words-