I step into a heap of fine sand that sifts through my toes and slowly enveloping my feet completely into their unknown depth. A dark depth of small particles rubbing against each other due to the mere dancing of the wind. These particles made way into the throat through my nose. I felt as if I was being chocked and muffled.
My existence was just a mere presence...or maybe just a shadow of what i was and how the air and the sand looked at me. i was a living, dark and translucent shadow that was hovering from one sand dune to another since the time when shadows were'nt dark but as bright as the golden sun and there were those days when the sparkle and glitter of the sand envied my luscious, silky darkness. I step ahead into something sticky. its cold and soothing and reminds me the sand on the beach and how i used to roll in it while making castles by the shore some time back. When did I used to do that, to be precise? i could'nt think , recall or remember any moment in detail but yes there were those sensory images flashing in my sloshy mind. I'm sinking in.
Its quicksand, I guess, but nothing matters but the present itself and how the cold mixture sticks and gulps me down as if trying to quench a thirst spell it was under since the desert became what it was now. It became a desert the day the sun evaporated the river, that was once here, in a mingled state of love and rage. But for once I wanted this; the sand consuming and wanting me. It seemed as if I was being caressed for the first time. Old memories were long-forgotten today. The sand had blown them away with the particles of sand.
