Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 185

I crawl forwards, to the side of a clear, wide pool of water surrounded by palm trees. I dip my hands in and take deep gulps of fresh water. It’s ice cold and I’m not sure how or why. The discrepancy is easy to ignore and I continue drinking.

Soon enough I start to feel sick so I’m forced to stop.

I sit back and take stock of my new surroundings. The oasis solves my need for water but the question of food is still a bit one. As much as I try and convince myself I don’t need it, my stomach growls with the need for sustenance.

I feel quite helpless all of a sudden. I absent minded claw at the grass beside me. I feel a gust of wind. For a second it’s glorious. After a few seconds though, it picks up. The sand kicks up and blusters towards me.

I try to stand, but as soon as I do, I get buffeted in the face. I can’t stand the feeling of sand in my eyes and mouth so I splutter and hit the floor.

Staying close to the ground isn’t much respite. I cry out as it begins to howl around me and the sand blots out the sun.

I clasp my hands over my head and close my eyes, waiting for the desert to take me.

I hear the vultures before I open my eyes and I know I’ve returned. The sun, the tree, the sand, the birds. Every time I find something, the desert strikes out at me like a scorpion under attack.

I don’t understand. Is this what I’m to be subjected to forever, walking and finding a shred of hope, only to be returned to this starting point?

‘What do you want?’ I shout to no one.

‘What do any of us want?’ says a familiar voice.

I turn around and jerk back with shock. Benjamin sits there, in a brown suit and a cane. He sits at the red seat of a London bus stop, rising from the sand right where the tree had been.

‘Hello, Easton,’ he says with a smile.