#56 Line In the Sand

He dialed 911, skeleton bones clacking. Waited. Someone answered. He explained where he was and what he needed. The person listened, bored, distracted. They weren’t impressed by his emergency, said a few words, hung up. He tapped at the phone like it were faulty, threw it on the sand. He looked about. Desert and a blue-white sky were the world. Overhead a black speck circled. It was joined. After some minutes they wheeled away. He lay his bones down on the hot ground and exhaled tiredly. Some sand spilled into his empty eye sockets. He considered calling again.