Curvaceous and then straight, a minaret stands solitary against the midday sun. Crisp heat and grains of sand glistening on your fingertips. At 2 minutes past twelve the minaret casts a shadow on the desert floor. The darkness spreads, like breaths of hot desert air you breath in. A gateway opens as the shadow expands and peering into the silhouette you can see the cosmos as jewels sprinkled onto a velvet robe.
A shooting star moves towards the surface and erupts through the darkened desert floor, rises a few feet into the air and falls back onto the ground with a “putt” sound; having emerged into this world, as a shiny black beetle.
The newly formed beetle flips over and leaves the shadowed floor, egressing into the sun making a slow migration towards the towering minaret that was now changing colors to an afternoon red.
It is twilight before it reaches the base.
Ghalib the beetle, now makes his ascent vertical. Having never traveled upwards before, he falls a few times before managing to secure a hold that will help him fight gravity. His movements are still shaky and insecure, having only emerged into this beetlesque form this afternoon. In fact the form of beetle Ghalib had embodied had two additional legs than any form of beetle known to mankind.
Not that anyone was around at the present moment to really care.
Upwards. Each step so precarious. The grooves in the bricks of hardened sand that were now a dark blue to match the evening sky, feeling so silken under Ghalib’s insect legs. To fall now would not mean death, or even injury. Surely, he would catch a passing breeze and glide safely to the ground. Or then his sturdy shell would absorb the impact.
If he did fall however, it would mean losing a night’s worth of time and effort with no sustenance. What Ghalib did not have right now was time. Who knew how long beetles lived anyways?
SSK.
