we're in the gobi desert. out of the window is sand. sand, sand everywhere, as far as the eye can see. sand to the blurred horizon where it fades to grey in a haze of low visibility. just a smooth line where you can't see any further.
the train rolls on hot tracks, braising slowly. inside, we boil in our own sweat. it's hot. i have slowly removed most of my clothing and lay under the oscillating fan hoping to catch a glimpse of cool air that never comes. all the fan does is move warm air from one place to another. a tiny gap in the window leaks even warmer air and some dust into the cabin by my head. i can taste the sand in my teeth. my pen even refuses to write properly.
they've shut the windows to stop the dust coming in, but there's no air conditioning. visibility outside is low, but i can see enough to add another mind blowing vista to the picture book in my head, as long as my brain doesn't get par-boiled in the process.boy it's hot.
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