I stared down into the well...the black echoing further and further down. All around me the sun screamed, glaring at the desert, her reply just a indignant indifference. The desert mesmerized by the sun like a snake charmed with no life but the sway and chant of a rippled wind. Dead, there was no future beyond the toying of the charmer. The landscape repeated itself over and over again, a monontonous maze.The grains of sand sadly insignificantly nothing filtered as they were through my fingers but becoming everything when I looked up and round for miles and miles. I felt the salt crysallised on my forehead by the teasing wind lapping at me, draining me, milking me for water. I felt drained and dry...dry like a crust of old bread, just the shell. My body a trap that I had fallen into and now my mind clawing at the dry walls of the well trying to get away... The silence mocking, laughing, taunting, maddeningly real.
Would I ever get away from this mare of sand rearing its unfogiving head void of life.It petrified me, but so did not facing it.
As I lay there the sky turning circles above me, the whole world in sky swept past. When the time came for the change the sun made a grand exit by tipping her orb in the atmosphere of dirty pinks, blues, oranges, purples scattered and highlighted around the magnificent dome that was her light.

The dark, not in all ways unlike the light, but at least the stars sang, they sang as they twirled above the flat hollow land, the perfect frame of space. I didn't know the sky until I lay in the desert that night. My eyes frozen staring up at the universe reflected there.

The sun and moon keepers of the tide of sand, the took their turns shaping the landscape....The stars and the sky watched as this took place. The wind a messenger, the clouds a legend to the swelling river of sand.