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The Sand Trap

A Story Every Day in 2024 May 21st 142/366

By Rachel DeemingPublished 2 months ago 2 min read
The Sand Trap
Photo by Finding Dan | Dan Grinwis on Unsplash

It was hot as he trudged through the hot, hot sand. Hot as his throat burnt with thirst. Hot as the sun beat a rhythm on his head, his blood as percussion.

Kurt knew he was going to die today.

He had no idea where he was. His face was crusted with sand mixed with the remnants of his saliva, which had leaked onto his face as he grimaced through his discomfort and the certain dread that he was going to bake. His eyes were pinholes, squinting so much that he could view light, sand, haze and nothing more. His mind kept reaching for drinks and he had to steer it away with determination that he did not have.

Each foot placed in the sand was a slide back. He wanted to cry but he suppressed the urge, dry sobbing silently. He couldn't spare the tears.

How had he found himself here?

Quad biking in the desert should be fun. Mike had suggested it. Kurt knew that sand storms were created from nothing. When the bike started to sputter, he called out but no-one responded. He'd been able to hear Mike driving off, the panic as the sands whirled and spat. Mike'd driven to get help surely, he thought. He'd been crouched, terrified, using his bike as a buffer and watching as tiny grains crept and crept. He'd kept his helmet on initially but took it off when his head felt like it'd pop.

As the sand receded, Kurt looked around at his environment and recognised nothing. Why would he? This was the first and only time he would visit. He was not expecting to chart landmarks. They would have been swallowed anyway. His slits for eyes would not allow him to find them.

He was compelled to move. He knew its futility but he couldn't sit and be absorbed. He hoped a search was on but it had been days now.

He did not know that he had been lured. That even now, the person who had set this sand trap was raising a drink in a bar to him and practising his persuasive methods to take his place at home.

A friend.



365 words

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thrillerShort StoryPsychologicalMicrofictionHorrorAdventure

About the Creator

Rachel Deeming

Storyteller. Poet. Reviewer. Traveller.

I love to write. Check me out in the many places where I pop up:


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Comments (12)

  • D. J. Reddall2 months ago

    A gritty tale of sandy betrayal!

  • Mike, you'll get what you deserve. I hope when Kurt dies, he'll become a ghost and take revenge on Mike hehehehehe

  • John Cox2 months ago

    Utterly convincing and terrifying, Rachel!

  • Caroline Craven2 months ago

    Yikes! So much for relying on your mates! 😳 Great stuff Rachel.

  • Mark Gagnon2 months ago

    With friends like that, who needs enemies? Nice twist, Rachel!

  • Hannah Moore2 months ago

    THis feels so hot and dry so quickly.

  • D.K. Shepard2 months ago

    What a plight! Then what a betrayal!! Kurt made quite a mistake in making friends. Great story, Rachel!

  • angela hepworth2 months ago

    You perfectly establish the setting here and how desperate it has made Kurt’s situation—amazing work!

  • Loved: ‘ His mind kept reaching for drinks and he had to steer it away with determination that he did not have.’ Oh dear! Nasty end!😳

  • Sasi Kala2 months ago

    Your story vividly captures the desperation and hopelessness of Kurt's situation.nice!!

  • Paul Stewart2 months ago

    Oh boy, Rachel...this had me on a knife's edge and full of actual anxiety for Kurt. Your descriptions were exquisitely horrible in showing just how much of a lost cause he was and I could feel my eyes itching a little reading this. Bloody well done, Chum! It's funny...I did a similar styled story for the Arid challenge. Similarish in that there was some kind of deception.

  • Joe O’Connor2 months ago

    This is so shocking - I want to know more! You've achieved a rollercoaster of emotions in such few words, really well done.

Rachel DeemingWritten by Rachel Deeming

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