Day Drifts

 (An excerpt from The Box And The Shiny Red Ball, xlibris publishing)

 You move to a new city, to start a job you didn’t ask to get. Next, you must make a home, on a street you can’t seem to find, and teach yourself how to do your new job, because there is nobody there to teach it to you.

The three awoke, to a bright sunshine, burning at every exposure they had. White like the light above, Sarida began to feel it the worst, although they were each of the same pigment shades in the start.

Hungry, the plight was to stride with a simple run until a river was found. Tubey, remembering one from the book he wished for right now.

Running was cut short by both of the needs that made them run, and their needs to take breaths, and the mixture of all, made their reality seem even weirder. If the truth was known to them then, it wouldn’t have seemed so odd.

Dehydrated, short of breath, and no food with which to derive some energy from, damned they were, or so it would seem to some. They’d had nothing, in the way of survival skills, taught to them, or their spirits.

A flash from her drift caused the snap, or it might have been peripheral. Looking towards her mind’s eye’s pull, Sarida saw twelve bodies once again; once again, she said nothing, as, once again, they all disappeared as fast as they were seen.

Sarida shook it out of her pupil’s memory plate, but they seemed to flash on and off, rather than disappear like a drift.

 Twelve people she thought to herself four times what her party had.

Meigh looked to the other side at the same time, and almost tripped as she looked again. She was staring out at some weird looking creatures, which were causing a dust storm to rise in the balance of their footings.

She too, did not point out the disruption to her mind, as, when she looked up, she saw that Tubey was just as lost in his own alterations, as Sarida seemed to be in hers.

Tubey saw rivers ahead, with piles of sponge pills near its shores. Reaching out, he stripped the wheat from its stalks, and placed a few to his tongue. The reply was unnerving, as a sharp color of blood came with the point of the grain’s husk.