it's half past ten o'clock in the morning. the sun is shining high overhead. feet dip deep into the soft sand dunes, almost scorching to the immediate touch because it's been baking in the sun for an hour already. the sand before you warbles like a mirage as you continue walking the dune. sweat is dripping down your back between your shoulder blades and down your face making the bridge of your nose slippery. without a cloud in the sky for cover, the heat of the sand penetrates deep into your pores—even though the temperature is only 76 degrees—and you long for the fresh blue water before you—miles before you.
