Writing Prompt: Vultures were circling.

Going to have to start putting the alarm clock across the room again. There may be daylight when I wake but the cold makes me want to stay snuggled under the covers. The benefit is that I don’t have to put it quite so far away because as soon as the cold air slips under the blankets I’m awake. So just barely out of reach will do. But it is time for the morning prompt, so timers at the ready and off we go…

This could be a fun little story once I figure out where it is going. Other than hopefully to an oasis.

Thursday, December 7^th: Vultures were circling.

Vultures were circling.  I watched them wheel through the sky.  ‘Something is dead,’ I thought.

There was a momentary relief that whatever was dead wasn’t me.  I wasn’t sure how long that would be though.  My water supply was down to a trickle and already I could feel that my body needed what remained.  I had just taken a few sips and had marked a large rock in the distance as my next marker for when I would take the next. 

The sun was going down now.  I walked mostly in the morning until the sun was too bright and hot for me to endure and then I sheltered for the hottest part of the day.  When the heat broke I again struck out.  I knew when full dark arose it would be too cold for me to continue so I would again be forced to stop and conserve my heat.

It was a game of extremes. 

Despite my thirst, I was, all things considered, doing well.  I made it further than anyone expected and if my calculations were correct, there was the possibility I might make it to the oasis by the time true night had fallen and it was too cold to continue. 

I was certain my water would last until then. 

I just had to keep going.  I tried not to look up into the sky.  I was working on the if I don’t look at the vultures then they can’t look down on me as their next meal policy.  It was hard to follow as they were the only other thing moving in the landscape.  If anything else shuffled about it would be after darkness fell and I would hear them rather than see them.

For now, it was me and the vultures.

I reached the point where I planned to take a drink and I carefully did so, making sure the lid on my canteen was firmly tightened down after my last measured gulp.  I wanted to guzzle the entire thing, but I knew better than to do so. 

I marked the circling buzzards again and decided that what they circled would be a good place for my next measure of water.  I noticed they were diving now.  Pausing in their circling to land before hopping away no doubt with some prize and then flying back up in the air. 

I suspected that whatever was dying was now dead and the birds were feasting.  I wondered if their prize was uncontested, more because I was uncertain about fighting off any land beast that might be looking for a pound of flesh than I was about the vultures.

From where I stood, I couldn’t see the source of their feast.  It was only after a few paces where the land rose slightly that I was able to look down.    The dead was some sort of sheep or goat.  I couldn’t tell which and had to judge by size.  Off to the right of the kill and well out of the vulture’s attention I caught the glint of something.  It shone in the sun like metal or glass and looked more man made than something nature would leave lying around.  I angled my course slightly so that I could both investigate and stay out of the bird’s way. 

When I reached the something shiny, I found it was the remains of a man.  Or possibly a woman.  I was not good enough with bones to tell and what remained of the clothes were shredded beyond identification.