Under the Desert Sun

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. There was no-one here but me to say it to anyway. I had woken here, lying under this tree, just out of the burning sun with absolutely no clue as to how I’d arrived here. That is, apart from the aches, bruises and a few cuts and scratches. All of which would probably not have been so bad, or so noticeable, if I were not completely naked.

Naked, that is, except for the dust and dirt that covered most of me.

When it didn't make me feel too dizzy and nauseous to do it, I lifted up my head to look around.

I was in some sort of desert valley, sandy soil with desultory scrubby grass and a few plants leading down a slope to this stream where a few trees grew. One of which was shading me from the heat of the sun. I had a feeling that without the tree being there to protect me, I would have some serious sunburn, if not sunstroke by now. I felt hazy, woozy and out of it, but somehow I felt I'd been there a long time.

Shading my eyes from the sun, I looked around. There was no sign of my clothes, or of anything else, except as I stared I could make out signs of where I seem to have roiled down the hillside to end up under the tree.

Eventually, I managed to get to my feet, I was a bit stiff but I could walk, more or less. Slowly, gingerly in my bare feet I followed the flattened grass and disturbed sand back up the hill, looking for where I'd come from.

Then, as I sat down in the shade of another tree, I saw the dust kicked up by the riders as they rode towards me.