This week’s Friday flash (or Friday drabble, as it were) is based on this photo. Truthfully, I am not sure if the image or the idea came first. I wanted to write a desert scene and went looking for desert photos.
He huddled on the sand. His tattered clothes provided little protection. The hot desert sun beat down on his back. It burned, but he welcomed the pain. Windblown sand drove into his skin like tiny, splinter-sized knives. Eyes shielded by his fingers, he saw a sandstorm in the distance like the promise of freedom. A thick smudge on the horizon, fleeting, leaving behind a wreckage of hearts. A fist of sand slammed into him. It set his ears to ringing, but he sat up and ripped off his clothes. He welcomed the sandstorm with open arms and a joyful heart.
Story Treasury 
though I’ve never visited one, I love deserts. For writers they are so rich and redolent with imagery and association and you give a good rendering of that
marc nash
thanks marc! i like setting stories in the deserts, too.
Powerful imagery, though I’m a bit confused. At first he’s avoiding the sand, and then he welcomes it. Maybe he’s gone mad?
Lovely language throughout.
thanks! he’s suicidal, so I am thinking he’s not exactly rational. Maybe not crazy, but not in the best of minds.
I thought this was well paced and believable. If I may be presumptious enough to suggest an improvement (and I always am), I think the tone and pace of the piece with respect to the POV character would benefit from NOT having the phrase, “leaving behind a wreckage of hearts.” Very tight flash; enjoyed it.
Thanks! Suggestions are always welcome! I will think about yours.
I think you captured the cruel hard element of the desert and along with that the pain of the character. I loved this line “Windblown sand drove into his skin like tiny, splinter-sized knives. “
thanks helen! I figured windblow sand would hit you hard and fast. bound to be painful!
At least the sand is glad to see him. I figured he were forlorn and probably suicidal, though I hope the storm shakes some sense into him.
yeah. I am not sure the storm will do that, but I am not sure if he ends up dead, either.
My favourite line was: A fist of sand slammed into him. Had a brilliant image of it. Liked that he just accepted his fate at the end and just went with it.
We don’t have many deserts in the UK but sometimes I want to do that in the rain rather than tense up and shelter with a newspaper.
not many deserts here in NY either! But I like setting stories in them.
Cool scene (no pun intended!), I like how he shields his eyes from the windblown sand but then stands tall to take on the full-on storm
thanks!
Sandstorms are deadly and he is obviously seeking it out. Very hard to breath in a sandstorm. I like that he confronts it nude, an offering to death.
I almost wrote that very same thing! lol thanks Lara!
Love your imagery and how he cowered from the storm, then withstands it. Nice short!
Thanks Tania! I don’t know that he is able to withstand it. He certainly wants it though!
It makes me glad I don’t live too close to a desert! I’m not fond of sand getting in everywhere.
Beautiful imagery though. Good work :).
hehe me either. thanks craig!
Ouch! That sounds really painful.
yeah it probably is!
Vividly portrayed Sonia.
The nature of a desert is both pure, and savage, I sense that this character is going to experience all that the sands have to offer.
Thanks Steve! Oh, yes, he is, probably more than he expects!
Really descriptive piece, captures a gamut of emotions.
thanks Icy!
Intriguing. I didn’t see him as quite as unstable. I like the desert for the raw sparseness of it and the way it distills the problem. I imagine sandstorms blot out the sun, so I thought some of his enjoyment was the shade the beating was going to provide him.
Didn’t think of the sandstorms blocking out the sun – you are right, they probably do. Thanks!
Yep, that fellah has some emotional issues, I think. But if you want to do yourself in, I suppose a desert sandstorm would do the trick and be nice, warm and dry in the process! Nice work!
yeah, something has hurt him deeply! thanks
Very beautiful, very evocative piece. I want to know why he’s welcoming the pain, though it’s fun to imagine. I recall a time when I took an ill-advised walk in a thunderstorm in March because I was pining over some boy (silly, yes, but I got a good poem out of it!).
I also love how the desert becomes a character and leaves “a wreckage of hearts”, as if it’s a stand-in for relationships that have dried up and become barren.
thank you kelly! I’ve gone out during blizzards. Very painful, I don’t recommend it. thanks!
I agree the imagery here is great. It’s amazing the things we look to to provide us relief. I hope he finds his. Great job!
I expect he will! Thanks Chuck
For me the story went on beyond what had been written. He was sand blasted from skin to sinew to bone to dust and long after the sand had won, he grieved the loss.
Yeah, that’s it. Thanks.
that’s perfect! thanks donald
Nice imagery here, and in just a few words. I, too, like the image of sand as splintered knives. Nice job.
Thanks Maria!