There is no such thing as being individual there is always something else involved like Twinkies individually wrapped but part of a box.

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

The Desert Sun


Clouds of dust follow the speeding car as it bursts through the hot desert air. In the comforts of his nice cool car Ronald doesn't have a care in the world. With a full tank of gas and enough chewing gum for a school full of kids, he is going somewhere, doesn't matter where, but somewhere. He cranks up the radio. The blaring music and the engine running at its highest capacity is not a good combination in the heat and it takes its toll. The car engine whines to a halt. The engine is dead, his phone is dead, he is dead. He stands around trying figure out what he is going to do.   He paced around his car. What could he do? He was no Macgyver, but he had to do something. He popped up the hood of his car and looked at what might be the problem. He looked around and found a stream of smoke coming from the radiator.  With that he also saw the engine near the front of the car had a snapped band. He walked over the back seat overlooking he bountiful stock of gum. He looks to his left and then his right. No signs of civilization exist, urging him to hurry. He has no drink except his empty can of Rockstar in his front seat cup-holder; he grabs the can and gulps down the remaining drops of flavor. He still is thirsty; the can didn't help but it was something. He grabs a few packs of gum. He walked up to the engine of his car with the gum in hand. He thought about how to fix the radiator. He shoved a few pieces of um in his mouth and began chewing. The sun was beginning to set. With no water his mouth was dry making it difficult to effectively chew his sticky sweet sensation. He kept chomping on the gum with more force and effort every chew. Eventually he had chewed the gum to a very sticky state. However, it was now dark and he couldn't see a thing. He was unprepared for this and had no light. He sticks the gum right onto the hood of his car due to a lack of better placement He put his hands out to feel his way around. He felt the cool metal of the engine. It was just a tad cooler than the air around. With the sun setting it was actually beginning to be chilly. He continued to move his hands around the car. He slid his hand against the smooth outer plating of the opened hood. He followed this surface to the bottom of the windshield. From this he worked his and to the driver's seat door. He felt around for the handle and slowly but reassuringly found it. He grasps the handle and pulls. The handle comes forward but the door doesn't open. He pulls again, this time harder, nothing. He leans back and pulls even harder, his hand slips and he falls on his butt into the sand. He pushed himself up with his hands. Re-orientating himself with his locations, he found his handle. He tugged... more delicately this time. The door opened, as he stepped into the vehicle he his head on the door frame. He pulls himself into his seat and slams the door shut, he can still feel a breeze. He turns his head towards the left and can see the open passenger door. He takes a second look but decides it would be to tiring to attempt to close it. He slouches down into his seat and takes a deep breath. The light cool breeze begins to whip his hair sideways but it's no matter to him. As his eyes begin to shut, he slouches forward onto the steering wheel. He shifts his body weight unconsciously and makes the horn begin to blare. The sleepy bundle of Ronald jumps to a startled state but the sounds stops when the pressure on the wheel was released. The sound resonated through the empty desert wasteland and transitioned back into an eerie dead silence. He crawls over the center console and into the back seat where he falls asleep. He wakes up just as the sun starts to rise to the left side of his car. With no water he knows that he won’t last long in the scorching heat of day and begins to panic. He has no idea of what to do in this scenario, he doesn’t  know cars so he can’t fix the engine, he can’t survive on the gum and other belongings because he isn’t a survival expert, he is just Ronald. Ronald begins thinking if anyone would forget him or come looking for him. He is a graduate student, he really isn’t popular with other students and doesn’t really have any friends. His parents died when he was in middle school and his parents weren't close with their families. He was nobody to society and even more of a lost soul out here.                                                                
 He grabs a pack of the nearest spearmint pack of gum and shoves it in his pocket. Ronald grasps the inside handle of the left backseat door and tugs at the door. Its locked. He grabs the small pin on the inside ledge of the window and pulls it upward. His hand which was still pulling in the handle is tugged forward as the newly unlocked door springs open. Ronald shrugs it off clambers out head first and tumbles head first into the dirty and sandy road. His feet follow the rest of his body slamming themselves into the ground. Spinning himself around and spitting out the sand and dust in his mouth, he becomes parched and thirsty as ever. He gets up closes the car door and spins on his heels. He remembers that the last stop he made was about an hour before his car died and that was quite a ways back. He was at least hitting 80 most of the time on his drive meaning the stop was almost eighty miles away. He knows it is his really only hope because the nearest stop forward was over 100 miles away. Ronald begins walking away from his car and looks back on his only true pride in life. He looks back as the small car becomes smaller and smaller. 
He continues on, the wind begins to pick up as the sun rises of the horizon. The air becomes hotter and drier as the coolness of morning wears off. The sun imposing and bright makes Ronald turn his head left away from the bright rays of light. Slowly his car and any other remarkable features vanish completely and everything begins to repeat and look exactly the same. He continues minute after minute, hour after hour. His vision becomes less reliable and his mid begins playing tricks on him as he begins feeling the symptoms of dehydration. The sun unloads it reign of its    significantly warming yet harmful rays. Ronald not knowing where he is anymore collapses onto his knees. He looks up towards the clouds through the brightness of the sun and shouts the final of his words on this world, “I Quit.” Not acknowledging the knife before, knowing the temptation of it had been strong, he takes it out of his left rear pocket and quickly but surely ends his life.