Somewhere, out there, lay my salvation. Shimmering heat created illusions of movement. Dust and grit had almost blinded me. Blinking rapidly, I tried in vain to clear my vision. It didn’t work. Loathe to rub my eyes lest I do permanent damage to them, I scrabbled around in my knapsack. There was one water bottle left. I had been saving it. Now was the right time to use it, I decided. Ah, there it was, my last few precious drops of liquid life.
Carefully I opened the lid and poured some of it into my empty food bowl. Squinting closely I made sure not a single drop was wasted. I had not eaten for many days. Wishful thinking had made me cling on to the items in my knapsack. Holding my face above the bowl to capture all the drops, I splashed water into my eyes, rinsing the grit out of them. They were sore and probably very red. But I could see more clearly.
Being so focused and intent on this task, I was oblivious to my surroundings. Finally, I looked up. In front of me stood a Bedouin woman garbed in colourful, traditional robes and headdress. Only her eyes showed. Looking intently at me, she beckoned and held out her hand to me. Eagerly I reached out. To emptiness.
I woke up in the darkness of the early morning hours, eyes gritty, mouth dry and dusty, throat parched.
Where was I ?
The words for this prompt were “Illusion versus Delusion” – thank you to Ann O’Donnell
© Raili Tanska