Riding Away

The prompt was to write something that had to do with this picture.

Alas! Here I go! Across the desert I have traveled to find my one true home. I was lost at sea for 17 years at a time. Oh what a story that is.

When the Spring rains rolled in in my hometown in Iran, they flooded the valley. The Gods were angry because of the war that we had been participating in. Homes were lost, as well as personal objects, homes and more. Friends were gone, families separated and lives ruined altogether. I remember the despondent cry of my sweet Alkavera washing away with the tides of the flood. My eyes were filled with sorrow, my heart, with guilt. I cried to the repeating rythym of my rowing. Up, forward, down, back, up, forward, down, back.

Angry at the world, I knew i would never forget the awful winds that flipped our small boat and washed my love away. When the land turned to sea, my village floated away from eachother; some on wood planks, some in boats, some on nothing, their limp bodies bobbing on the surface.

Ath the time I was only 19, a young boy with a bright future ahead of him. But that was left behind when I drifted out to sea. Survival was the only thing on my mind. I constructed a makeshift spear and caught fish when I could; eating them raw or leaving them in the scortching sun to roast. But now I am back on land, able to stech my legs, living a life of crime. I am on a voyage, a journey to find my homeland.