cries. The grass is blown away like a pile of ash, as gravestones pop out of nowhere. Terrified, I
back away. This heaven has changed into hell.
The tree roots stretch out like hands, beckoning me forward. Now I see. The scene changes
with every flash of lightning. It’s an illusion. I had dipped my feet in blood, I had laid in a
graveyard. I am running now, even though there is nowhere to run.
The darkness was trying to pull me into the land. I need to get out of this place. Sell this
desert. No, that is cruel to the next buyer. I understand now! The Gobi Desert is alive. It is real. It
wants something. A sacrifice? These ideas pour into my head like a wave, crashing down on me.
Here and now, I make my last stand. I lie on the sand, and close my eyes, my peace blocks the
pain, and I black out.
I am alive. I’m in a cave of sand, looking around. “You are worthy,” booms a deep voice. It
echoes through the tunnel, “You are very worthy.”
I know who it is. It is the spirit of the desert. I realise I was wrong. I am dead. I am a ghost.
“You have showed great courage, and strength.” The voice is definitely male, it is kind, soothing,
and I let it continue, “But most importantly, kindness. You sacrificed yourself for me. I am proud.”
“From now on, you are the spirit of the Gobi. May you lead it well, and lead it long.” His voice
echoes as my spirit is pressed against the sand. I feel myself merge with it, and a strange anger
from the previous spirit dissolves, being replaced by me. I am the Gobi Desert.
