Story Snippet

Damn, 3:10am. My sleep snatched away yet again by my restless mind ruminating on questions I've been carrying with me for many moons now.

How in hell did I get here?  How did I get to this?
If all the world's a stage, I wanted to know if death came for me in the next act.

In the back of my mind, I always felt I was destined to the desert. Sure, I didn't have to make the trek out here, but I was cut out for it, everyone knew it. It definitely beat merely subsisting in the city. I was fed that glory was mine for the taking out here, that I'd join the ranks of a desert town and become as famous as anyone else who made it out here. Fame and fortune (either one really) did sound awfully nice. But here I am, unable to see past the heat, let alone be heading towards anywhere useful.

Sitting up from my bed, I let out an exasperated sigh, feeling the crisp air slither out from my lungs and escape me, though I wish it were the only thing that had left me. I dove into an old pouch I had kept on my trip and retrieved some rose petals, still thriving and soft, as if clouds were woven into its velvet surface. I placed it on my check, closed my eyes, and reminisced. Tempted though I was to bring them to my lips and wrest from them kisses that have never been yielded, I too held back.