The sun was setting over the desert as Jack stumbled through the sand, his water canteen long empty. He had been lost for days, wandering aimlessly through the unforgiving terrain, and he knew he was running out of time.
Just when he thought he couldn't go on any longer, he spotted a figure in the distance. It was a woman, dressed in traditional desert clothing, and she was beckoning to him. Jack stumbled towards her, his legs heavy with exhaustion, and collapsed at her feet.
"Water," he gasped, but the woman only looked down at him with pity in her eyes.
"It was a hell of a way to die," she said softly, before turning and disappearing into the sand dunes.
Jack's last thought before he passed out was that he should have listened to his wife and stayed away from that cursed pyramid.
YOU ARE READING
The Stranger under the willow tree
Short StoryOn a frigid and blustery October evening, the radiant moon cast its glow upon a solitary willow tree, perched atop a hill. Beneath the tree sat a mysterious man, clutching a large, worn storybook. Suddenly, his gaze was drawn to a child, no more tha...
