Once there was a land with no color.

This land was the same bleak hue, only changing shade through the course of the day. In the morning, it was a faint neutral color ranging from the light color of the ground through the horizon to the pale glow of the sky.

Midday, the sun let everyone know who was in charge of this land. Once it had struggled through the dusty haze on the horizon, it brutally beat down. Without letup or remorse, it burnt everything in sight. And since there was no shade, everything was in sight.

A constant haze of dust and sand clung to the horizon. It hinted at the tracts of wasteland that waited out there. This was a serious desert. It ranged across borders, entire countries, civilizations, possibly even time itself.

Nightfall brought winds, which stirred the dust. IT was also a relief from the heat as the sun was swallowed in the mist of dust. Occasionally, electrical lit the sky with a fury and brilliance that was commanding.

At night, though, it was hard to tell that the land had no color.

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