The bent desert dawn came swiftly. “Be brave,” I whispered to myself.
I could still remember waking up, the blood bolting sound of coyotes nipping at my mind. Sweat began to pool under my t-shirt. There was slim chance of rescue from the outside; I’d have to rescue myself. There was still a charge on my phone, but there was no one to call.
Looking at my phone, I began to page through the pictures. Photographs of my family, mostly. 90% of my phone is like that. This couldn’t be the end, I thought. It can’t be that my family wished me not good luck but goodbye.
The blood bolting sound of a rattler startled me from my spot in the shade. “I can’t stay here,” I muttered. The heat had left me stuck with no motivation. Who has a vision quest in the desert in midsummer? Only a fool.
I made up my mind. Time to start back to the visitor’s center. Only, where was it? The dry Sonoran wind erased the maps from my mind. The sun began to gleam, creating breastplates of bronze on the horizon. I’d have to hurry, if I wanted to make it back without a trip to the hospital.
- Face stingingly
- nipping at my mind
- blood bolting
- stuck with no motivation
- 90% of my phone is that
- stuck in there for a week
- I can still remember waking up and seeing my tonsils floating a jar
- Be brave
- Race with a passion
- dawn came swiftly
- breastplates of bronze
- slim chance
- not goodluck but goodbye