Copyright © 2015 Ben Kesp
Gradual warmth spreads over his body. Before, there was nothing. Empty and dark. Slowly lifting his eye lids, the red glow of the sun lights the sky around him. Focusing his gaze, views of sand reach his eyes on all sides. Where is he? The coolness of the desert evening becomes apparent sending goose bumps over his skin. Peering down at his naked body only seeing his underwear, he ponders the moment. Bright blue briefs. They are unfamiliar to him. He is startled by his appearance and tries in vain to recollect his memories. Blank thoughts greet him.
His toes play with the sand beneath his feet, still warm after the day’s burning sun. He takes a few steps ahead and stops to survey the sight before him. Mounds of sand stretch as far as he can see. Not a tree in sight, no vegetation of any kind. He processes the current position as if waiting on instruction.
His stomach calls for food. Not knowing which direction to walk in, he sits wishing he had a bacon roll at this very moment. Juicy and succulent, mouth watering, he closes his eyes savouring the taste until it becomes too real; his teeth chewing into the bacon with swirling flavour of smoked sauce hitting his taste buds. Damn! It’s the best roll he’s ever had. Startled by the reality, he opens his eyes staring at the large roll in his hand, inches from his mouth with sauce dripping from the edges. Standing, he takes a bite. It’s real! Confused, he cannot make sense of the moment. Are the possibilities endless?
Staring out into the expanse of the desert, the scene that rolls out before him is epic. A scene for a battle, and he’s the commander in chief. An invading army approaches, accompanied by the drums of battle. Strength flows through his veins facing the approaching foe. Replacing his briefs with a short leather loin skirt, he raises his right hand staring down the length of his silver edged sword. His hair is longer with a silver band running around his forehead.
He can feel the presence of his army behind, ready and waiting for his command. The soldiers remain silent, and a quick glance to his right comforts him in its sheer size standing in formation. Returning his gaze onto the advancing army, he does not fear them, but their leader. He waits for the challenge of battling with him, using all the powers at his disposal. His nemesis, Olgar by name, appears leading his army only a short distance away. Dressed similarly in a leather loin skirt and with shoulder length brown hair, he spies Olgar’s lips parting in a challenging smile.
Setting his sights on the mountains of sand on either side, a wind howls across the desert lifting the loose grains upwards, swarming down onto the valley of soldiers. He and Olgar are not like the others; their abilities are great. He lifts his body upwards and challenges Olgar in the air overhead the ferocious battle that will take place down in the desert with the blowing sand grains an invading force of their own.
Olgar follows, rising upwards. Swords clash, creating sparks of silver floating downwards to the scene below. Locking his arms with Olgar, their bodies entwine, his skin against his, they twirl. Eyes lock, each refusing to back down. Each believing the territory he fights for is his. Momentum gathers and everything around them disappears and changes. He no longer feels control, caught up in the swirling motion. His body falls, losing sight of Olgar on the way down. Darkness strikes.
Bird songs fill the vacuum of silence. As he slowly opens his eyes, the sun light filters in through the open window. Sitting up, he surveys his bedroom. A dream! His battle with Olgar will have to wait. He will long for the night when he would battle once more on the desert sands and dictate his adventures in the world of dreams.
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