1. Sun-scorched. Endless. Silent snaking hills of fine ochre sand. Distance shimmering.

2. Small, maybe seven eight inches cubed; dark metal, alternating octagonal scales of slate grey and burnished silver. Hovering maybe six feet up.

3. Wooden, weathered. Half-buried in the sand. Sun-bleached, skeletal, some of its broken rungs poking upward, mistaken for ribs.

4. Glossy brown, bark brown mane and tail, white diamond on the front of its face. More I can't say- not a horse person, it's not my horse.

5. Distant enough not to worry yet. Hazy roiling wall of dust, occasional orange crackle of friction lightning. The wind that carries it is warm and dry. The whisper it makes as it skates the sand, and the boom it makes against my ears- only contrast to the vast silence of the desert.

Flowers? Thought this was only sand for days. I suppose they're crouched low to the ground, don't find much purchase. White and unimpressive, no room for anything other than grim survival here. Attached to some scrawny succulent, I guess. Few and far between.