Lotka Volterra

This wind is too hot.
That was the first thought to ever enter my head. I wasn’t even really aware of myself at the time. I just knew that I had to get out of this scorching, abrasive wind. That was as far ahead as I could think. Maybe if I’d been thinking faster I’d have noticed more than just me and my twelve inches of sand. Perhaps I’d have linked the sudden scorching wind with the fiery trail that split the night sky in half. Maybe I’d have ran as far away as my four spindly legs could take me. Maybe I could have watched as twelve miles of desert floor suddenly and violently threw itself into the air. But no, I was too busy digging into my twelve inches. The sound hit me first, like thunder made physical. The force of it drove me deeper into the sand. Everything compressed for a moment as a shiver ran through the ground, then the world turned upside down with me in the middle of it. As I tumbled through the air, the only thing in that reptile brain of mine was that nothing would ever be the same.

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