Posts Tagged ‘Desert’
Dec
The Greenhouse
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Every desert harbors an oasis at its heart. The more consuming the landscape, the more bountiful its sanctuary. The soil squeezes every spare drop into hidden, long forgotten recesses, where it will be conducted to safety.
The great desert of my homeland is no different. For the past thirty years, I’ve acted as gatekeeper for the lonely greenhouse at its center. I have always guarded its doors with my life, allowing entry only to the meekest of souls.
They’ve promised me a taste of a single drop of water, a generation in the making, on the day of my death.
Jul
Little Motel
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
There is a stretch of highway where the tallest foliage is a three foot cactus. Shade is a commodity nearly as precious as water.
Blake sat on the porch of the Sierra Motel, staring at the horizon. His vision plumed and prismed in the heat, causing him to hallucinate. Or maybe he was already in Hell.
Blake lamented having to meet death with the lingering caress of rough linen on his skin and greasy cheeseburgers on his breath, but like his mom used to say, you get what you deserve.
At least he’d gotten one last night of decent sleep.
Feb
Survival Stories
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
A dim blue light manifested over the valley. The crisp breeze squeezed even the rumor of moisture from the air.
A spot of water, too meager to be named a drop, formed on the needle of a cactus. It clung near the edge, threatening to plummet into the abyss.
Gravity pulled, the breeze tugged, but the droplet’s tensile strength held firm, and rather than fall, it rolled the length of the spine, reaching the porous membrane at the cactus’s heart.
The water seeped inside. The cactus sprang to life at the sudden nourishment, enough sustenance to endure another few weeks.
Feb
The Long Forgotten Adventures Of Blake Worthington, Archeologist
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
We stumbled upon the entrance buried beneath the sand. It figured, with 14 miles of desert in every direction, the door had to be buried. Thank God for the stolen map.
The tunnel was cool, a welcome respite. We had run out of water hours ago.
“You know, if the Midnight Sun is not here, we are going to die,” Semele whispered.
“It’s here, trust me.”
We lit torches, and descended into the catacombs. The passageway opened into a cavernous chamber. The walls, the ceiling, the dais, everything was stripped clean.
“It appears Dr. Jones beat us to the prize again.”