His knees hit the sand, and he collapsed face down. Exhausted. Finally spent.
He knew as clearly as anything that if he closed his eyes, he would never open them again.
But he was tired.
So very tired.
More tired than he had ever been before.
He closed his eyes.
Maxwell Park wrote this story.
“It’s a sand witch!” I shouted. “Run!”
My warning came too late. She caught us in her magical snares and turned us into camels.
It took three years to escape, and two more to find a wizard who could change us back. On the upside, I kept the water retention.
This story was based on the TypeTrigger prompt “it’s a sandwich.”