Dry winds caressed the sandy ground, lifting light batches of sand in front of the eyes of the sun. There was the silent dance for no audience but itself. A mesmerising struggle between the elements, sand always begging to come back down and wind yearning for it to fly.
Soft orange glow shone through while the blurry bright thing slowly dipped under the solid line of the horizon. Looking straight at it, you'd think the gas giant's frame moved; like liquid static.
The minutes passed by quickly, and soon there was no light, coloured or otherwise, to see anything. It took the light and conflict of wind and sand with it. Now came darkness. Now came silence. Now came stillness.
19/11/17
