-The Mirage-
Thump.
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Thump.
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Thump.
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You could hear it now.
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Your own heartbeat screaming in your ears, the final signs of your body telling you that it's near the end- that it's breaking down.
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It's choking on heat, drowning in desperate thirst; the horizon melds between this world and the next in preparation. The blinding sun reflected off of each grain of sand like tiny mirrors that each spat your reflection back at you, like infinite eyes watching you in rapt attention, watching you start to decay.
"This, this is what death feels like."
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The thought is final, factual, and acceptive.
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A scamper of six thin legs crawls across your forearm, followed by the scrape of a carapace, a scorpion perhaps- testing, inspecting what meal your body will become.
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There's an ironic beauty in it, returning to the earth- breaking down and becoming so small that even the insects will find nourishment from what you leave behind.
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Yet, beauty isn't the same as compliance, and while breath still inflates your rasping lungs, you defy it. For that is the way of all living things.
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Even the ibex, caught in the crushing jaws of the crocodile, will still kick, will struggle desperately, and she will abate the relenting comfort of finality. Enduring every single god-forsaken inch of flesh-tearing pain, for a chance, for that one fleeting moment.
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The one where she takes back control.
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A dry cough flexes through your throat as you tilt your head to the sunset- wanting the prismatic hue that dances across this sand-laden ocean to be your final sight. Your stamp on the back cover of your final chapter- control comes in all forms after all. Some a roar, some a whimper, others? A simple nod of acknowledgement to what came before, or perhaps a greeting? For the unknown that lies ahead?
Sellen: "Not yet."
You think the voice is your own, at first, until the featherlight brush of fingertips glides across your cheek- a gentle caress. A shadow eclipses the sunset, and a tender smile comes into view. The chilling bite of clean water meets your cracked lips, and you drink hazily, then desperately.
The next thing you feel is the sensation of floating- or, to be more precise, the feeling of being carried, the sound of sandals biting into the dunes fills your ears, one after another. A rhythm after today, that you'll always feel nostalgic for, always hold your breath to hear- as if an angel is passing you by.
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You awaken to the gentle sound of sloshing waves- The cool dead of night hanging in the air like a thin silken blanket, tangled ever so carefully around your thinning frame. The comforting chill felt as if your mother swaddled you protectively tight, just as she had once before, before you knew you could even make memories.
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Primal comfort?
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Maybe that's what you felt, watching her. Watching the way her dress spun across the surface of the oasis lake as the moonlight reflected on her pale skin.
She stepped towards you, calmly- a gentle smile pulling across her thin lips, and then, she tilted her head to you.
"What could it mean?"
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You ask yourself.
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Was it a simple nod of acknowledgement to what came before, or perhaps a greeting? For the unknown that lies ahead?
[đ
Dawn Break: 06:32:00]
