Writing Prompt: The air was bone dry.

Morning all and welcome to Friday. Are you ready for the last prompt of the week? I know I am. So timers at the ready and let’s see what we see.

huh. It took me a while to get going, but I really like James. I think he is about to have the rug pulled out from under him, but I like the complete fish out of water idea. I think there could be more flushing out of the background, but I think it is a fun idea to play with.

Friday, June 21^st: The air was bone dry.

The air was bone dry.  It hurt James to swallow, and he had several nosebleeds since his arrival.  In the mornings he had taken to smearing a little Vaseline inside his nostrils before leaving his room, as nosebleed insurance.  That had helped significantly even though he despised the feeling and found himself sniffing constantly.  His water consumption increased as well.

At home he drank water, on occasion and had to remind himself to drink.  Her the water was the one resource that made his throat feel less like sandpaper and he often felt he could out drink a dehydrated camel.

It was strange though as all the water drinking didn’t make him have to use the restroom as much as he thought it would.  He blamed the air.  James was certain that the dry air wa sucking the moisture from his skin like a vampire.

It was his only explanation for where his personal moisture was going.  This was not his natural environment.  Used to dense humidity with his heat, this dry heat was something else all together.  It didn’t seem as hot, but it was more painful and somehow more threatening.  At home he knew to modify his speed, slow down and pace himself.  It made the heat and humidity bearable.  He would never say he liked it but he understood it. 

Here it was an entirely different thing.  He never felt as hot and he certainly didn’t feel as sticky, but it felt like a place people shouldn’t be.  Survival did not involve slowing down and pacing ones self.  It involved a host of modern conveniences that were more necessity than convenience. 

And then there is the night.  As hot as it was during the day, once the sun went down, the temperatures plummeted.  There was no moisture in the air to retain any of the day’s heat.  He shivered and found himself reaching for a sweatshirt.  He heard terms like ‘summer weight cardigan’ bandied about and thought those around him mad.   To him this was just more proof that this was not a place he needed to be, that people in general should be. 

‘But here I am,’ he thought.  His mother fell in love and married.  While he was glad she found happiness and generally did like the people he was supposed to start thinking of as family, recent changes brought a move.  His step father inherited the family ranch and he decided the time was right to move back and make a go of it.  He was thrilled.  His three children were thrilled and his mother was excited to be off on a new adventure. 

James tried to go along with all of it, but nothing about this venture was something he enjoyed.  The others enjoyed riding horses.  He knew his mother had ridden when she was a girl and she picked it up again with great enthusiasm.  James had been on a horse before and could ride tolerably well if there was a need for it, but it wasn’t something he enjoyed.  That was more or less how everything felt around here.  He tried to keep his personal tastes to himself and comforted himself with the fact that once fall arrived he would be leaving.

At least that was what he thought.