The Walk

Face to face with nature

The Walk

Parents, yes there must have been parents, waiting in the womb, hidden in the artery, close to living bones, as mothers ponder, ready to pop out, pump out babies, more progeny to repeat the cycle. Life must go on so we go on. My companions and I can't remember them for what it is worth. So many years ago, a life time if I remember, buried in the past, lost in history. If only we could touch them to prove they once existed. The 2 others with me don't talk much. The truth is they don't talk at all.

Walking in a line is all that is left. 3 of us with empty canteens remain to wonder lost with no known destination in no direction, so on we go to continue on in a nameless desert, on a sea of sand with a blast of hot air at our backs, heat waves streaming ahead of us and a relentless deadly sun up above. One step at a time to become undone.

I'm not really sure about the line we are meandering on. There is a good chance it is more like a curve, a circle, certainly not a square or rectangle. I remember someone once saying that when you are lost you can find yourself walking in circles and not know it.

My 2 companions are strangers. They have never spoken. Perhaps they are waiting for the right occasion or situation to utter something constructive or useful. I wonder if they have names or parents. I hadn't thought about them having vocal cords. That would be nice too.

By chance or some fluke of nature I happened upon the men some months ago sitting on a dune one sunny morning. That's easy to believe because every morning is a sunny morning here in the heart of hell where the only clouds are in our minds. Having nothing better to do, they followed me onward from that day on, leaving behind a tin flask on the sand that perhaps contained something potent at one time.

Up ahead is another mirage not unlike the others. I wonder how many lies, false images, this one will produce and how much reality will we harbor in our hearts, attach to our hunger, our need, to this fake illusion to satisfy our morbid curiosity for fantasies related to safety? Are there trees with figs and dates? Is there a cool pool or pond of clear clean water, a patch of thick tan grass to rest our heads on to afford us comfort? We walk past it as usual like all the others and leave our imaginary camels behind as well.

This is not going to end well. My companions already fell off a few miles back. I already feel my bones going down with each step forward, scorched dry and white, blending into the desert sands bleached, becoming part of the landscape that begins as it ends in the fabric of time.

Author's Note

The blending of life into the landscape of nature