Dust.

It was the year 2020 and I had decided to brace the unknown and join a group of single travelers to see the Pyramids in The Desert of Lands of Cairo.

It was an exciting time we all met up at a hotel in London , The Breadghurst. We did the whole group introduction senario; who’s who , where you work. well I was working for a little newspaper at the time, just filling in for the Agony Aunt.

I enjoyed it, I never got to meet anyone in person but the appreciation you would receive by letter had me in tears at times.

Even though I missed the face to face interaction, I felt I was revealing myself to much and open to deep connections, which were forming through my writing, particularly Peter who was going through a messy divorce and felt at a loss not being able to see his children everyday and put them to bed at night. I think that is how I mentioned the trip for singles going to Cairo.

I lived a solitary life but I became a bridge between hearts and that voice in the dark that could spark a little hope in a persons life. Time and difference were inseparable to me it all really didn’t mean anything.

So I decided to have this holiday And so, as a reclusive writer,I could , became a symbol of the power of storytelling, a beacon of inspiration for those who dared to share their voice with the world. My journey proved that even in the quietest corners of existence, appreciation and connection could be found, reminding us all of the immense impact our words can have on others.

We wasn’t expecting this though, we were all quite unprepared for the tornado to hit the sands around us and what lead from there gave Simon and I a great understanding of how fragile we are, that the earth is desperately seeking us out and so when we came to this dray cracked land the Dove calling gave us reneweed hope that we must get together and not only love each other but the land in which we walk on as soon the lack of love will just heighten those crack to land holes so big we saw full tall housing flats just be consumed by the ground and we braved ourselves and went standing and looked where the pyramid were just showing- the storm came again, it blew in a way in which I had to walk with my back to the sandstorm, it howled and spiralled upwards, tears from my eyes cracked my face as the sand set inside the dry salt mixed with the salt of the earth.

I fell to my knees in a faraway place in the Land we had trecked across the desert onto Land so parched of water the earth beneath began to show.

I sat beneath a tree and prayed like I had never prayed before for rain or a sign that earth was going to get out of this alive , let alone the people.

The roots to the tree were even beginning to show; when out of nowhere rested a Dove above my hand. I felt a strange sense of peace, but hard work ahead in the road we were travelling.

We wanted to see the pyramids but the sands became violent and we lost each other, the visibility was so poor, Simon took his tie and tied it to his wrist and we moved along the desert this way.

Eventually Engulfed in the desert's parched silence, I was nothing but another grain of sand in the wind.