The sand swirls and eddies around Colin's bare feet as he trudges towards the oasis, shimmering in the distance beneath a white hot sun. He's so thirsty. As he approaches, Colin wonders if the oasis is just a mirage. It seems real to him - this cluster of green vegetation nestled between two sand dunes, with a pool of clear blue water marking it's centre like a single unwavering eye. He starts to walk faster, kicking up plumes of sand as he drives himself forward, spurred on by an expanding sense of cautious hope. He's been out here for so long, it's hard to believe he's found this place. But the closer he gets the more real the scene becomes for him, and it's when he spots birds flitting about between the trees that he abandons all caution and breaks into a full sprint.
He arrives so abruptly that he trips over the water's edge and falls straight in. The cool shock of the water envelops him completely and he finds that he doesn't want to stop sinking. Down and down he plummets like a ball of lead, deeper into the waters of this lone desert oasis, and how did he arrive here, anyways? What had he been doing, wandering alone in this desert? Is he lost? Abandoned?
It was the world. The world ran dry.
But now Colin drifts deeper into the depths of the pool, and like a fetus turning in a womb he feels completely at home here. Let the world end. He can stay here from now on, can't he? Surely in just another moment, when he works up the courage to try, he will find that he is able to breath this water, to take into his lungs fresh full water transformed like the most beautiful air. Lovely air, complete and water. Kind oxygen, tends to thirst over despair. Yes. This place for me.
Ever so gradually, Colin becomes aware of a strange pressure on his shoulder, and finally he comprehends that there is a hand on his shoulder. Someone is grabbing him down here in the water! He jerks around quickly to confront this invader of his sacred space.
It's Mr Russo. The old man stares at Colin with a look of rising panic, before opening his mouth to speak. A bubble of air rises from Mr Russo's mouth and envelops his head, and for a brief second it looks as though Mr Russo is wearing some sort of clear circular helmet. He still seems to be trying to speak inside of the bubble, trying to tell him something... Then the bubble pops and Mr Russo's head burst into flames, followed by the rest of him, and then the flames spread across to Colin, who finds that he cannot breath any of this water after all, because the water is now on fire and there is no escape.
TO BE CONTINUED
This story is based on my original instrumental composition of the same name.
Writing and images by Greg McCann, the author of this post and owner of this Steemit Channel. To view more of my work, please visit www.fireawaymarmot.com.
