I, Desert.

Now I have been around a very long time, and have seen my fair share of the unusual and downright unthinkable in my many years as a desert. I mean, there have been treasures, ships, lovers quarrels, camels, dead bodies, near dead bodies and so much more. I have seen beauty, horror, kindness, pain, joy, sadness, suffering and the occasional happiness in being rescued alive, and the mending of a broken heart or two.

You may wonder about the ships, but many, many years ago, an ocean flowed through here. Many ships got sunken when the tsunami of '24, swept everything away and all that was left was sand. That is how I became this vast desert. There are a few trees with straggly leaves, but no forests or green grasslands nearby, just sand, my sand as far as eyes can see. The husks of those ships still stand as a stark reminder of bygone days.

Not far away a thriving city flourishes with riches and poverty alike, just like everywhere else. They call it, "Heaven's Gate", the irony will soon make itself known. For here many bad men happily indulge in illegal activities, gangs vie for control of the city's drug trade. And they casually bump each other off whenever the occasion arose.

Frankie is the Boss of the 'Jerico' gang, the biggest group of hooligans that ever walked the length of my sands. I mean just two days ago they brought Johnny from the 'Underworld' gang to reside with me here. So, I started making a list, you know, keeping a count.

"Johnny Bruk"....RIP...6/6/21. Underworld gang.

Then two days later, here they came with two more:

"Ricky Grey"...."Sammy the Hand"...Rip...8/6/21. Jerico gang.

I mind my own business, mind you. But things are heating up over in the city, and my patience is running thin. You all know that the 'fuzz' don't bother themselves with gang warfare. Some of them cops are the ones bringing me the delightful bloody additions to my wide, burning hot landscape.

The kicker is that none of the two gangs is really responsible for the little matter of how the problem started. Johnny's gambling debts had gotten out of hand and his girlfriend kicked him to the curb. I know because I heard them arguing one late night when they came here. He owed so much money, he figured he was better off dead. So, he did himself in. The boss, thinking that he had been capped by the Underworld posse, sent out his people to retaliate. Ergo, two more dead bodies.

Both bosses fumed, ranted and raved. All-out war broke out. Now, as a desert now become burial ground, I am pretty ticked off and seriously overwhelmed:

Buried in order of Disappearance:

"Johnny Bruk"...6/6/21. Underworld gang.

"Ricky Grey"..."Sammy the Hand"...Rip...8/6/21. Jerico gang.

Manny...Skull...BigJohn...Henchman...Frenchie...Benji...Rafe...Reggi

All arrived on the first truck. RIP...Jerico gang.

Stevie...Hoodrat...Patti...Squint...Tattoo...Blackjack...Minuteman...Link

Came by on the second trip. RIP...Underworld gang

Like cockroaches they kept coming. What was I, the official 'gangsters paradise'. I wished that the stupid Johnny could wake up and tell them what really happened.

Then a miracle happened. Linda came by to sprinkle some devil awful concoction to make sure that Johnny never came by to haunt her. She told the desert and whichever ghosts were listening that she was gonna tell Frankie that Johnny killed himself because he was an idiot and was better off dead. She would ask for money for that little bit of info.

Poor Johnny truly got turned over in his sandy grave, for he knew that Linda's plan would certainly make her quite dead, thus becoming an addition to the growing funeral plot of my desert. He did not have long to wait.

"Linda Plunkett"...7/4/21...RIP. Johnny wished that he could cry, I mean can ghosts cry, he really loved Linda and wished he had been a better man.

Poor Johnny regretted the company of so many of his mates, as well as his enemies. He regretted that his actions had led to such a very terrible misunderstanding. But most of all he rued the day which now left him with the many silent ghostly reminders. His constant lament were the words playing over and over in his head.

"How had I become so engulfed in the desert's parched silence, I was nothing but another grain of sand in the wind".

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