Flash Fiction February 15: Desert
I grew up in a desert. I lived in a desert all my life.
Sometimes people came to my desert, mostly to throw sand at me, or show me how cool trees are and that I couldn’t have any.
I tried to stay inside my desert, keep away from the edges.
A desert isn’t the most comfortable place. I know that. But it’s what I’m familiar with. The outside is more scary.
A desert is vast. It’s very hard to see outside of it, when you’re standing in the middle.
The sand gets everywhere. It makes everything heavy and coarse and annoying. But if you live in the desert, you stay in the desert. Even though it’s hard, it can be harder to get out.
In 2020, a lot more people found their way into their own private desert.
I didn’t choose my desert. It found me. But now I’m working my way out. And it’s ok to ask for help.
Posted in From the Writing Desk, No Category, Stories by Eran with comments disabled.