day before. Cameron was too sick to go to the Gobi.
“Dream about the hot sand. The cool breezes. The dunes. The remote untouched beauty” Alli
while stroking the suffering boy.
Cameron grumbled and turned around. The calmness of the little boy frightened Alli and
quickly searched for his doctor. The accents of pain and frustration shook her body. She was
unable to think.
Sunrise after sunrise, Alli shared her stories with Cameron. Even if Cameron was too sick to
listen or pay attention, she never stopped sharing. She cried while she spoke, and she had grown
obsessive with her stories. She had loved the boy so much, people believed she had gone insane.
Angels
“He’s gone.”
Mrs. Broeker fell back while Alli caught her. Smashed hearts, and constant tears poured down
their faces. This news had devoured their bodies. What were they to do now?
Alli remained in the hospital, where she had visited the sweet boy every day over the past few
months. She laid on the spot where the little boy once laid, and had begun to write what appeared
to be a story. Her last, for Cameron. It included Angels who had peacefully lifted up the innocent
soul into heaven, where he was able to play in the sand all day long.
Cameron’s Gobi
Soon enough, Alli couldn’t stop writing. Her method of grieving the boy, was by writing the
stories that she had once shared with Cameron. Soon enough, publishers from around the
world took an interest in Alli’s works of art, and it wasn’t long until Alli’s stories became an
international success.
Following her success, she funded a trip with Cameron’s mother to the Gobi desert, to pay a
tribute to their little boy. There, they sunk their feet into the hot dry sand, rode the most elegant
camels, and traveled the longest routes.
They were survivors of Cameron’s Gobi, both with their own little story to share.
