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Chapter 67 Sand Rain

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    The impression of the desert has always been superficial in images and words.

    At the foot of the sand dunes, before I had time to admire, I saw the yellow sand suddenly coming from the top of the mountain, like a sand curtain, overwhelming the sky and rushing down the mountain.

    The first time I rushed into a small restaurant on the side, the proprietress was closing the doors and windows with her hands and feet, taking in the colorful scarves hanging outside, and selling us sand masks that can cover the face and neck.

    I bought a can of Coke, opened it and took a sip before I realized the sand in my mouth.  I drank it in a hurry, and swallowed it all without chewing.  So what does the sand in the desert taste like, I still don't know.

    The sandstorm raged outside for a long time before it weakened. I originally planned to take an off-road sand buggy, but decided to climb up barefoot on foot.

    The yellow sand is so soft that it doesn't reach the instep when you step on it.  Earlier the sun was fierce and the sand was scorching hot. Now the feet are warmly wrapped and ironed very comfortably.

    But it's not easy to walk, basically take a step forward and slide half a step down.

    Halfway up the climb, the wind picked up again.  Seeing the sand grains pouring down from the top of the dunes like flowing water.  Even though he was wearing a mask and glasses, the grains of sand quickly passed over his exposed arms, causing a sharp pain.

    After finally climbing so many distances, I am really unwilling to turn back now, so I can only bite the bullet and continue to go up.

    The sand buggy roared and rushed up the mountain from not far away, sending the people on the top down in batches.

    Looking at the sky above his head, it has changed from the original yellowish yellow to gloomy, and he said a few words: It won't be raining

    The person next to him said: Tsk, have you ever seen it rain in the desert?

    As soon as his words fell, the bean-sized raindrops fell down, leaving small watermarks on the sand.

    It's a little redundant to say anything at this time. I looked up at the top of the mountain not far away and climbed up.

    So on this yellow hill in the desert, wrapped in the entanglement of sandstorms and wind and rain, I finally set foot on the top of the mountain.  It seems that there should be a lot of emotion and joy, but there is nothing.

    Perhaps the scene in front of me is too wonderful, rain and sand, cold and hot, moist and dry, there is no conflict and opposition at all.  It actually means standing hand in hand and looking at the mountains and rivers together.

    Looking down from here, the yellow sand is like silk, like a sponge, and like a soft chiffon cake

    Just like a fool, sitting in the wind and sand and heavy rain, watching the endless stretches under your feet, don't want to leave.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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