Therapy Bits

Caution! Do not enter this desert! The sign stood crooked, sun-bleached and partially buried in the sand, as if even the words themselves wanted to escape the relentless heat. Sam paused, squinting at the horizon, where waves of heat shimmered above dunes that whispered secrets to the wind.

He had heard the stories, old tales told in hushed voices around crackling campfires. Once, a man had entered the desert and never returned, his memory fading like echoes in an empty canyon. Others spoke of strange lights at night, of voices carried by the wind—lost souls wandering, searching for a way out. But Sam was not one for superstition or fear. He was a seeker, a lover of the unknown, and adventure coursed through his veins like wild fire.

As he stepped over the sign, the sand churned like cream underfoot, and he felt a thrill surge through him. “Just a little further,” he murmured to himself. The sun loomed overhead like a watchful eye, but Sam pressed on, determined to find the heart of the desert.

Hours passed with the sun dipping towards the horizon, casting long shadows. It was here that he noticed two figures on the edge of a dune—a woman and a child. They stood as still as statues, faces turned towards the sun, shimmering like mirages. Sam hesitated, a creeping sensation flickering at the back of his mind. “Hey!” he called out, but the wind swallowed his voice, leaving only silence.

Compelled by curiosity, he approached. The woman’s hair flowed like liquid gold in the golden light, while the child nestled against her side, clutching something small and shiny—a silver bracelet.

“Are you lost?” Sam asked, his heart thrumming.

They turned together, their eyes like pools of endless depth. “It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?” the woman said, her voice calm, as if lulling a storm. “But we’re safe, just like you should be.”

And in that moment, Sam felt the weight of the desert pressing down upon him, its power coiling around his chest like a serpent. Instinct mingled with dread. He stumbled back, realizing too late that the tales were not just stories; they were warnings. The desert’s allure was a siren song, and it would claim him if he didn’t heed the call of caution.

With one last glimpse at the figures, he turned and ran, each step heavy with the knowledge that some places were never meant to be entered. As the sun finally set, he could still hear the desert whispering, reminding him of what he had narrowly escaped.

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