THE HUNTED
A DESERT PURSUIT
The sun pours its molten light onto a land, now quietly afire, desolate, and still.
My quarry ventured into this blazing hell thinking no one would follow.
He was wrong.
I look across the vastness and in the distant shimmering waves of heat, I see the small figure I've been trailing since morning.
I am closer.
My thoughts are vague, disconnected. I know only to follow, and kill, that shape in the distance.
I watch the circling shadows of the vultures.
The man in the distance collapses.
I stagger for him.
About the Creator
mark william smith
I have been writing now as a hobby for 20 years.
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