No Pursuer in the Desert

9 Days Earlier

The sand rose and fell in miniature dunes as far as he could see. Unless he looked straight up into the cloudless sky, it was all sand, sand in two-foot dunes.

He turned, just his head, then his upper body, as far as he could, all the way right, all the way left.

Sand.

Jarring not to see footprints behind him. As a tracker, no trail was out of his experience.

His pack grew heavier as he listened.

The silence, too, grew heavier.

No wind. Not a flutter.

desert

He brushed his right hand on the rough canvas sleeve on his left forearm. Heard the light scratching noise.

He could hear. There just wasn’t anything to hear.

He turned again, this time his whole body, stepping a few degrees at a time in a circle.

There.

On the horizon.

… more … “No Pursuer in the Desert”

Being on the Dangers of Badly Designed Bathrooms

It seemed unlikely we would come to terms, this shower stall and I
It seemed unlikely we would come to terms, this shower stall and I
I looked up as the shower needled my, I suppose “lower chest” would be correct though not necessarily medically or anatomically accurate (I apologize in advance to those who know what things are called for being fairly loose in my terminology – but just this once). As I say, I looked up and noticed that the mini-blind wand (see previous apology) was inside the shower as was I.

At first it seemed as though the blinds had been installed a bit too wide at the top and cut to width around the shower. Further reflection during my aqueous impalement suggested another answer for the strange inverted L shape. It appeared that the almost human-sized glass box I was in had been installed after the window and blinds already existed.

… more … “Being on the Dangers of Badly Designed Bathrooms”