On a vast desert a falcon circled itself in the zenith of hot sky, and stood on the Erg and surveyed the vast red desert. On the south of it was the dunes, rolling in waves over a hundred feet high. From this distance, in the sun setting light, they looked liked blood talons ripping the sand.
Behind the desert rose the Atlas Mountains still purpled with shadow. Wasteland it was called. A secret was buried in the sand of time. The secret was not hidden beneath a rock in the desert. Nor it was tucked inside a musty library. It was hidden within the soft whispered tales of the tribals who, have heard of it from their ancestors, witnessed the lamentations of the wind in the night when the scent of night-blooming Jasmine pervaded the air.
The secret was hidden in the very sounds of the desert–in the mysterious whispers of rocks and stones themselves. It was the tale of a woman who had once long walked and on the desert. Searching for her reason to live. neither water nor refuge she sought. She had looked at every direction to seek her beloved who had abandoned her, she would look intently and frantically just to catch his tiniest part in the vast wasteland but there was no soul except the cries of desert on her fate.
Helplessly she sat on the ground and would again get up to search again and again. The departure was maddening her. She silently looked up at the sky and wished she would wake up from this nightmare, reality was crushing her every minute. She did not have any belongings of him so she wrote his name on the sand, touched it affectionately as though it was a real person.
And then it came–the help from the desert. A mighty sandy storm, despairingly she looked up from ground, and saw the storm coming, and smiled, for she couldn’t look beyond the thick dark lens of love in her eyes. She was bound body and soul. She wanted the wasteland to collapse and swallow her thorbing heart.
Surely she wants to die. It seemed to her the only cure for her mix poignant emotions of anger, melancholy and most of all being deserted.
As the sandy storm’s sound grew louder like the roar of the sea. She flattened into the sand and lay there trying to breathe. And then she thought: “she feared death not because its painful but she would never be able to see him.”
And became an ancient ruin.