The Perfect Shot
Diocesan Girls’ Junior School, Cheng Tsing Grace, Fiction: Group 2
T
yler felt a sharp pain in his stomach. He struggled to open his tired eyes. He was
exhausted, confused and weary, trying to remember where he was and what he was
doing. He reached for his camera, but it wasn’t beside him. Suddenly, images came
flooding into his mind. Flashes of what he had been doing gradually became clearer. He
had been travelling, bright and early, trying to get the perfect shot of the bitter, 500,000-square-
mile Gobi Desert to add to his collection of scenery around the world. He had come across the
perfect scene: a jerboa, mid-jump. But just as he was about to click the button on his Nikon, his
vision started to blur and his legs started to get weak. Before he knew it, the only thing he saw
was darkness.
A harsh gust of wind swept through the air, causing Tyler to sit up with a jolt. A slight rustle
came from his right and, startled, he turned to see where the noise was coming from. An old,
smiling Mongolian couple faced him, their eyes crinkling with worry. A small crowd stood closely
behind him; all of them looking bewildered.
He took this time to examine his surroundings: he was sitting on a thin blanket in an
average-sized tent-like structure. Tyler plucked up his courage and attempted to ask the old lady
where he was. She stared at him, confused, and it took a moment for Tyler to realise that she
didn’t speak English. The old man spoke up.
“Most people speak Mongolian around here,” he said kindly, “although there are some
exceptions, including me. We were walking across the desert when we found you unconscious. We
took you to our home.”
Confused, Tyler then proceeded to tell the old man about how he had been looking for a
unique desert scene in the morning and how he had seen the jerboa. A faint smile crossed the old
man’s face.
“I’m afraid that was a mirage – jerboa are nocturnal. It would be impossible for you to see one
in broad daylight. I assume you collapsed, as your body could not cope with the drastic weather
changes here in the desert. It takes a while for you to get used to it. “
Tyler nodded half-heartedly, hardly listening. He stared wistfully at the open entrance of the
tent. The old man mistook Tyler’s longing to leave as a show of interest.
“We keep the doors open as an act of welcome. People who live around here go by a motto:
‘Happy is the one who has guests, merry is the home boasting a tethering rail full of visitor’s
horses,’” the old man explained. Tyler suddenly understood why the kind family had taken him in,
and was warmed by their hospitality.
“Get some rest,” the old man said gently, noticing that Tyler looked dreary. “We’ll talk again in
the morning.” The old lady and the rest of the family smiled at him. Tyler lay down drowsily and
fell into a deep, deep sleep.
The old lady awakened him. Handing his belongings to him, she gestured for him to get ready
to go. Perplexed, Tyler did as he was told and got up.
“We’ve lost our water supply. We must move the yurt to another place,” the old man said.
Guessing that the yurt was the tent, Tyler accepted his belongings and followed the old couple
out into the desert. After walking for a few hours, the old man suddenly noticed that a cow had
