May 24

Fine Dining

2016-05 PicFor centuries I’ve lain buried, engulfed in sand. Tricked by tribesmen and trapped so deeply I cannot move. At first, I survived by eating the bugs and crawlers that were able to dig that far down. Barely maintaining my massive bulk, across ages, with contemptible morsels, I crave a hearty meal. Human flesh to eat and blood to drink.

My heart leapt the day muffled sound came through the sand. Silence had reigned for so long I forgot I possessed the sense of hearing. I dared to think the noise signaled that I would soon be released from my prison. Instead, the sound teased me by growing louder then softer, over and over again for decades. Despair consumed me till I realized that even when the noise receded, the sound remained stronger than before. After that, the ebb and flow of the noise stoked my thirst for revenge. So I waited.

Eventually the sand around me began to change temperature. I no longer sat in constant cold. I imagined the sun rising when the sand warmed then setting as the sand cooled. Larger creatures, crabs and sand worms, made their way to me. Better meals to boost my strength. Still, I longed to suck on the corpse of one of the warriors who put me here.

More intense and more often than I remember, hurricanes have torn at the sand above me. Today, I sense another storm starting. The sound of the wind builds. I feel the pounding of the rain. The storm dredges the sand. I am near the surface now, but still too confined to move. I feel air upon one of the spines protruding from my back. Oh glorious! With a few more rushes of wind, the rain falls directly on my skin. The wind and rain stop. No! I weep in anguish.

An hour passes. The wind picks up again with more ferocity than before. My snout escapes and my head breaks through the sand. The storm scrapes across my long front limbs. Though my hind limbs remain buried, I rejoice in the freedom I have gained.

I am weak from hunger, but that will change. My camouflage is exquisite. I look like nothing more than driftwood washed up on the shore. I will rest until someone comes to me. After all, the best meals are worth the wait.

7 comments

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    • Kelly Bixby on June 9, 2016 at 2:14 pm
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    Equally creative and creepy! Eew.

    • Karen Kittrell on May 28, 2016 at 8:17 am
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    “Spines on back” – Chilling! Quick bury it again.

      • Sue Remisiewicz on June 5, 2016 at 5:32 pm
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      I’m shoveling as fast as I can!

    • Barbara Pattee on May 26, 2016 at 9:41 am
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    Wow, Sue! You pulled me into the scene, and the picture is perfect.

      • Sue Remisiewicz on June 5, 2016 at 5:31 pm
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      The picture is what inspired the story. Hmmm… I wonder what that says about my subconscious.

    • Kook-Wha Koh on May 25, 2016 at 10:39 am
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    Interesting story. I enjoyed to read it.

      • Sue Remisiewicz on June 5, 2016 at 5:30 pm
      • Reply

      Thanks, Kook-Wha! I’m glad you liked it.

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