The Desert Wind

 In Boot Hill, Today's Feed

Written by: Collette Cottingham; Boot Hill

The thing about living in the desert…anywhere you travel is far from home, especially for high school sports. The bus pulls into the post office in the wee hours of the morning. The lights are turned on so we can see, which only blinds me. I end up squinting which doesn’t help. I gather my things and exit the bus.

The bus pulls out sending dust through the bitter cold air. Now for the mile walk home. The frigid air bites through my clothes; now I am awake. I cross the highway.

Through the night air I hear my name. I turn around. It’s that annoying boy from a few towns over, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to know if I could call you sometime.”


“Do you want me to beat him up?”

“No Kenny.”

“So, can I call you sometime?”

“Yes,” I turn and begin the walk home.

“Wait, Collette, I don’t know your phone number.”

“It’s in the phone book.”

“You’re not going to give me your number”

“No, you figured out I was going to be at the post office at 1 am. I think looking up my phone number in the phone book will be a piece of cake.” Especially since this town has less than four hundred people.

He smiled. I turned and walked into the desert darkness.


The Desert Chill:

The bus bumps along the broken road. This is definitely a sign we are close to home. The lights snap on, why? I can see better with them off. Now I am blind. I find my things through squinted eyes.

I exit the bus. The bite of the cold winter winds reminds me of the myth that deserts are always hot.

The bus pulls out, stirring up the dry desert sand. I look into the darkness. I bundle up, so I don’t freeze to death on the walk home.

My name echoes through the wind, am I still dreaming? I turn around; that annoying boy, Grayson from two towns over is standing in front of me. “What are you doing here?”

He runs over to me. “Can I call you sometime?”

He is so handsome with those dark brown eyes. If only he could shut his mouth. But those brown eyes melt my cold heart. “Yes you can call me.” I turn to walk home.

“Aren’t you going to give me your number?”

Gosh, he can be annoying, “No, you figured out where I would be tonight, you can figure out my number too. It’s not like this town has a thousand people in it.” I meet his beautiful brown eyes. Grayson is truly beaming.

“You like me Angela.”

“Yah, Yah, good night Grayson”

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