Dust Storm

Dust Storm.

“Things are quiet out here.”

Greffyn Layre lay on his back, loafing in a sea of sand. He let the sun pour upon him, penetrate each pore and heat his blood into submission. His eyes closed and he could still see the sun. His eyes still shut, he imagined that the sand was slowly moving, that there was a current and fair breeze that was carrying him away to some paradise, some spot where the hope of all the hopeful had concentrated and created something called life or beauty in motion. He let the burning of the sun and of his desire lull him into a dream soaked with insanity and warm sloth. His mind felt like a melting mirror.

In his dream, a girl approached him on liquid silver wings. Her eyes were round and wide and looked like two orbs of black. Her mouth was stitched shut by a golden thread. She flew before him, landed on her knees, and began using her hands to shovel sand into a silver sieve that appeared from out of the sea of sand. She cried as she performed her futile task and she dissolved into the sand along with her tears. The sand then dissipated and the world around Greffyn was green and full of life. Everything was wet and shimmering, everything was in bloom; there wasn’t a single inch of brown… a sight sight so foreign to Greffyn that his eyes brimmed over with emotion. Then, from the fluid shadows in the distance, Pandora approached carrying her box in her marble limbs. Her movements quick and then staggered, she approached Greffyn and opened the box so that he could see. Sand and decay and bones flowed from her box and drowned out all of the trees and the green. Greffyn leaned over to look inside her box and saw that there was an island of green amidst a sea of sand. An island of hope amongst an eternity of despair. Pandora stared blankly at Greffyn with eyes that reflected nothing. Sand began to flow from her box once more as she ascended into heaven.

Greffyn came out of his dream slowly. He got up and looked around, his eyes wide. Everything… everything was dead. The decay remained. Greffyn could not remember if what happened was real or not.

“Maybe… maybe it meant something.”

He began to dig through the sand with his bare hands searching for some trace of green or the top of a buried tree.

  • * *

End of Dust Storm.

Dust Storm


Joined March 2008

  • Artist
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