The Drowning Man – Anmoch Coisich

Drowning. They say that drowning is a terrible way to go, except that it’s over relatively quickly. Once the water rushes in, everything goes fuzzy, the panic subsides, and darkness overtakes.   I beg to differ.   I’ve been drowning, slowly, bit by bit, my whole life.   The desert will do that to a soul. With every damnable step the sand inevitably shifts and covers your feet, wiping out your footsteps and leaving no trace of a man’s existence. It doesn’t matter if I run, walk, or stand still, the sand is always creeping, always covering, always devouring. I’m told those used to the desert, like the Stygians, don’t mind the sand. Perhaps it’s my Cimmerian blood that rages against the idea. My feet yearn for rock and stone underneath,...