When we enter the desert, it is like entering a sea. We are on the move, in a seemingly infinite journey in which the hours become indistinguishable from the miles. Time is at a standstill. Time moves with immense speed, a javelin caught in a photographic instant. Every moment brings the thought, “We’ve been here before!”
One could go blind in the bright dazzle of the unreachable horizon. Our fellow travelers are fearful. The smell of their bodies commingle terribly with ours, we have become inseparable. Collectively, we long for a change of color in the visual field, for some relief from this immense sunlit monochrome world.
We used to be like you. You could become like us. Our homes behind us, the uncertainties before us, and a current moment that is swollen like a sail. The truck moves like a laden boat. The planet is parched. The desert shifts in the wind, saying only its own name: desert, desert, desert.