Abandoned

Days were longer now; nights were brief. Relentless heat took no prisoners, made no exceptions. An occasional cloud became a curiosity, no longer a hope. Colors began to fade, to unify into one bleached scrape of grey.

The thin, burning air eroded consciousness, melted away the senses. Everything became the taste of dust, the smell of dust.

The horizon no longer held hope, only a memory of a cooling darkness, that short respite from the sun.

Maybe tonight. Maybe tonight there will be no morning.