His skin cold, already covered in a fine layer of grey. He was no use to me. No use to anybody now. His flesh was still firm beneath a thin robe that did little to cover his dignity. At one time I had dreamt of us being locked in a room together, to be alone with Daniel, but that was long before. I felt nothing, a blizzard of nothing. We had been held in separate rooms since they captured me. The only people I had contact with were the guards and they never opened their mouths. Five days of silence, trying to soften me up, let my imagination take hold. What they didn’t realise was that my imagination had long since been blunted. I had only one goal left. Escape was not a worry. I would get away or I would die. Either option I could face. The waiting was thing, that was what could kill my nerves. But an opportunity would present itself, a blunder, I could feel it, some minor oversight that would allow me to slip away. I had observed them, estimated their skills and I knew I was their superior.
What do You think about Dust: (Part I: Sandstorms)?
