Memories of the Gobi Desert
German Swiss International School, Vienna Au, Fiction: Group 3
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rudging through the dusty sand dunes, unable to control herself, a silent tear traces the
girl’s cheek and falls to the ground. She is covered in nothing but a torn tattered piece of
cloth, reduced to shreds after many years of sadness and pain. Her mind revolves around
nothing but one distant memory; the memory of her grandmother uttering her last words
on the coarse sand. The girl remembers the light fading from her grandmother’s eyes, her lips dry
and cracked due to the lack of the water, and recalls the last touch, the last kiss that was placed
gently on her cheek just before her grandmother departed this world.
Shivering from the bitter cold, the girl clutches her shawl tightly to her body, as the day draws
to an end, marking another day of survival, but yet another day of hope. The cry of a golden eagle
echoes in the distance, but the girl remains undisturbed, deeply submerged in her trail of thoughts.
Feeling her eyes starting to droop after a long tiring day, she finds a desolate shelter to spend
the night in between two large rocks, and quickly falls into a deep sleep. At midnight, the gray
sparrow’s saltwort caws, and the girl’s scream echoes through the entire desert, but no one is there
to hear her. The night goes on, with the fluttering of wings enfolding her in the unfamiliar darkness.
Shhhhhh...Shhhhhh....... The wind swiftly blows the sand from the numerous sand dunes, and
the millions of sand particles fly through the air and land on the girl’s body, suffocating the girl
under its heavy pressure. Vulnerable. Unsafe. Insecure.
The sun’s scorching hot rays on her body, the hot blistering sand scratching against her feet.
Water. The girl longs for the glistening droplets against her tongue.
Bones. Buried within miles underground. The remaining footprints of those who walked on
our planet billions of years ago. A mystery that has never been yet uncovered.
Her grandmother. Her kind, gentle face, smiling down upon her from the Altai Mountains. The
forces of danger approach. A strong, powerful wolf consumes her grandmother’s soul in one bite.
The spirits of the Gobi Desert dance around in a circle with glee. The scene clouds up in darkness.
This was the girl’s dream.
Choking on the hot, scorching sand that engulfed in her lungs, the girl feels like a never-
ending flame is burning in her throat and is sucking all the moisture from her vulnerable body.
Beside her, a cluster of wild onions sway in the wind, their snow white crowns facing the sun.
Remembering her grandmother’s teachings about edible plantation, she slowly gets up on her dry
cracked feet and reaches for the plants. One by one, she consumes the flowers, taking her time
peeling the skins off the stem. It is the first meal the girl has eaten in two days, and she finishes
almost the whole cluster, wrapping the leftovers in her shawl for later.
Recalling her grandmother’s last words that she must travel along the Gobi Desert to start a
new life on the Silk Road, she hobbles along the rocky path, heading south. Every now and then,
the girl finds a new specimen to put into her shawl. She finds a bit of copper, and a leaf of the
Saxual tree, and adds it to her collection. She discovers a collection of small, hard rocks with
intricate designs, and adds it to her collection as well. Along with the wild onions she collected
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