Sweat trickling down my cheek like the warm gravy smothered over a soft, but crispy Kentucky Fried Chicken. The sun flashing in my face, blinding my vision like fog creeping towards me in the morning. Thick and heavy. The heat blistering my skin and leaving burnt scars throughout my body. Its power was noticed and taken seriously. Walking became painful, but standing still was suicide. Mind rattling negatively. Where do I run? Where can I hide? Looking for shade became useless. The sun covered her track - leaving no gaps. Sweat pouring as the mind engulfed insane ideas, which had never crossed ones mind before. The sun still blazing in my face. There was no escape. No cure. "Water. Where the fuck is the water?" Insufficient time to think without getting headaches and, several times, the need to vomit. Breathing became harsh. Drinking any beverages was out of the question. Razor blades filled the void in my throat, covering all bases. I was in hell. My body was on fire - it had to be! I was surrounded by the orange-reddish flames engulfing my body. No yelling. No pain. All I felt was the heat crawling through my skin. The blood circulating, heart pumping, and at times -rarely, but when it occurs, their is excruciating pain - large lumps of chewed food passing through tiny tubes towards my intestine. The pain was alive. I know it, but I did not feel it at all times. I made my way past the pens, past the parking lot of the torn down home guarded by iron bars. There was no shelter. None whatsoever. No trees to hide below. No beach or pool to sink myself into. Nothing. I stood between the sun and the God-forsaken desert.
I could not remember where I was. In fact, I did not know who I was. My mind was blank. I could only remember the past ten horrible minutes, when I awoke lying on the rubbled sand as my own sweat trickled down my face. Stripped, no shirt. Shorts but no underwear. It was only then that I noticed my feet. Bloodied. Parts of the deep wounds below my shin were covered with sand. The golden sand turned black and the blood turned to crust - sticking to my skin. I was dirty. Dirty as any man could ever be. Compare me to a dog, who spent half an hour rolling in garbage - pure garbage. I was roasting in the sun, and all I could think about was the way I looked. Forget the water. Forget food. My mind was elsewhere and so was my body.
The black grease, or so it seemed, covered a good portion of my right leg, top to bottom. I could not bare to touch it or even taste it. I did not want to know how it got there, but how to take it off.
"What the fuck?!" I said to myself looking at my dirty-old legs. Wrinkly and withered.
"Why am I whispering?!" I yelled out loud, hoping for someone - anyone - to hear me and, hopefully, feel the pain I was in.
"Should I run? But where you damn fool?" I told myself, this time I spoke aloud, "Where? Yeah. This useless rubbish shit." I tossed my right shoe to the sand in front of my. The grease had expanded its territory. The greases stained my leg, as well as three quarters of the damn shoe. I did not know what I was doing. What is the use? My mind baffling elsewhere, while my body was covered in fear and toxic.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead with my hand, not knowing whether my hand was filled with grease. Who gives a damn? I am already a dirty fool who has lost memory. While the sun blazed upon my face, and my hand wiping the sweat off my forehead, I paused. I felt the sting in my left leg, probably due to the sand in my wounds. Who cares? I had found something. I don't know what it was, but it was something, alright. Right? I was losing it. No! I had already lost it. What was it? A mirage? What mirage? What's a mirage? This long shaped brown colored thing appeared from nowhere.
"Fuck it! I'm coming for ya." I said firmly aloud.
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