Sand Masters
By Copper Thrice
Well, ladies and gents, this is a story crafted from a half-hour of preparation at an SIU summer writing camp. So if it looks amateur… Guess what? It is.
D. and I crafted this story so… Enjoy!
Part 1) Marko Reflects
The sirens had long since died down. The feds, it seems, have finally given up. Marko Flint fell to his knees miserably and hung his head. In his hand he held a locket that contained his daughter's picture. It was her locket, but she had given it to him when they had last met.
The picture inside was worn and he grumbled to himself as he wiped sand out of the frame. He was of no use to her now— his tragic, ill child, Penny Flint.
He stumbled on, through the slopes of the rocky mountains, his mind wandering farther than his feet carried his body. Wandering back to the city where he once had a home and a family, but then his child grew sickly and he turned to crime. One incident later, he was a hunted man.
He came to a stop at the base of a mountain, boulders jutted from the ground and sides like teeth. Marko leaned against one and slumped ungracefully against the boulder, dislodging chips off sand from his sides.
What he wanted was to let go: lose all form and be as base as the individual sand particles that he was made off. Sand, everywhere, but without purpose.
He'd just drawn in a fresh and much desired breath of relief, when he heard a voice come from nearby.
"Sand Coffin!" it yelled.
Marko stood erect, only to see himself beginning to be swallowed by sand particles that felt foreign to him, it wasn't normal sand. He couldn't control it…
And it enveloped his body.