Ficlets

The air crackled with the advent of the day’s heat, and his pained moan would have gone unheard if not for the amazing quantities of beer drunk the night before by the farmer unzipping near by. Frowning, the farmer came a little closer, then recoiled in surprise at the form lying in the dirt at the foot of a nearby shrub.

His face drawn and his lips cracked, the form uncurled a little when he realized his cry for help had been heard. But when he pried his tortured eyes open, he saw no one and heard the sounds of footsteps scrabbling away over the loose shale composing the desert floor.

Weeping tears that refused to come, his form convulsing in dry heaves, he began to surrender. He had found the adventure sought, but saw the end quickly approaching as his last water fled with every exhalation. Adventure had never before seemed something dangerous, but now it was branded as such into his mind.

Eyes closed now, he waited to die. An eternity passed, and then he felt hands underneath his shoulders, lifting him.