Creative Writing

                My formerly moisten tongue curled and rattled in a violent motion as the thick dessert atmosphere attacked what dampness was left. For once the reality of the situation became real. Over the shining dunes the last golden rays of yellow and orange slowly faded to a darkness wrapped in a tint of purple fog. Instantaneously a loud whistle roared filling the valley with the coldest breeze thus far. Parched and salty, the frigid gust blew across the landscape; bringing with it the smells of sage and rotting cactus, making me lug my jacket closer. As the temperature dropped my breathing changed, the previously loud rhythmical beat of my heart slowed into the slightest thump. Over yonder there was a silhouette of a large magical bird dancing to and fro amongst the stars. The creature soared above me, catching my attention for the slightest moment. As I focused on the magnificent creature, my eyes lost gaze in the dark night: my mentality began to rationalize the situation and my dried up tongue was a continuous reminder. I had the perseverance to pursue, to maintain on the treacherous gateway to nowhere, bending and curving leading me farther to a point of no return. Yet my blood stricken legs stopped. As if the world came to a halt, they carried me no farther, as to say “Give up.” Then with the quickest of flash all was dark. The immaculate moon light shining above vanished with the mere blink of the eye. All was dark. There I was in a vast land petrified out of my wits and so far the outcome did not appear to be in my favor. As the darkness consumed the night, a tunnel of white cleared the way. What I believed to be dawn showed slim glimpses of sunlight emerging from the rocky formations above. As if on cue a shape in the distance drew my eyes towards the magic. From what I could make out, a tree swayed in the breeze: this was my north star, the guidance I was seeking. Finally with all the motivation left from within my nimble body, I rose. I rose up into the warmth and familiarity of my mother’s arms as she cradled me back and forth. Although the situation presumed false, I knew I could not deny that it had been all a dream. Just as the sun was the highest in the sky I woke up to the sweet smell of flowers merged with a faint aroma of an ocean breeze. Starring down at me was my mother; she held me in one arm and her Nicholas Sparks novel in the other, she leaned down bestowing her lips against my temple. A large grin overtook my face as I settled into her lap pulling my blankie higher disguising my face. I once again wanted to return to my dream land. And within minutes I was swept into a non coherent slumber.