She awoke to find herself lying on a mattress in a small hut in the middle of the desert. Next to her lay a snoring man – three months younger than herself. This was the product of her idea of a dream life, a love that could conquer all! She had given up everything to be with him, she had even married him.
She got up; dressed and left for the days grueling work…

A few hours later; when the sun was right in the middle of the pure blue, cloudless sky – the hottest hour of the day – she overheard an awful hushed scream, a sort of moaning coming from their hut, she left her work and ran to investigate.
The screaming was almost terrifying and as Alice put her tiny; snow white hand to open the rugged curtain – that played the part of a door – she saw the man she so desperately loved penetrating an Israeli female thing whom she only knew as their leader or guide. She had to be honest – she had always envied this woman for her flawless beauty. For she herself was plain, she was by no means ugly, but nothing about her would make people fall off pavements, or in this case - sand hills.
She stood there and felt the world around her crumble. It felt as though her heart had stopped, her tears leapt down her face as if to pull him away from this woman. She needed to run to him. Had she not given enough to him? Had she not given him everything she could have? God was not here in this hell-hot forsaken place. It was definitely hell!
Alice stood there frozen in the blistering heat and watched as the other woman screamed from pleasure. Every thrust that her love gave was like a poisonous arrow piercing; penetrating her chest – deeper and deeper. She could not think; she could only carry on robotically staring, dying. She watched as he thrust the final time and lay holding the beautiful woman, like he loved her. Then as if her world finally came to an indefinite stand still; as if the surety of God was in an instant denied he said the words she lived by each day, “ I love you Akasha, I love you.”
“ How are we meant to tell Alice?” Akasha asked softly, like she cared.
“I don’t want to think of her right now, please let me just enjoy the moment.”
Alice’s legs buckled beneath her, she could not, would not believe his words that fell with such ease and dripped with such direct hatred.
She tugged at the curtain, and both naked beings inside jumped. She realized what she had done and ran… she ran out of the tiny village and fell on the sand, burying her being, her soul in its merciless heat. “One month God, it has only been one month that Tate and I have been married, what did I do wrong God? Are you even there?”
She fell asleep in the sweltering heat. Alice lay there and the unforgiving sun burned down on her pure white unmarked skin. Time was passing and there was no one, maybe she would die, and maybe that would be better.


Peter had, had enough. No one cared about him and he hated this God-forsaken place. The boys were mocking him again and there was nothing he could do. He got up and walked to the bathroom, rinsing his face with the water in his water bottle, he stared at the mirror. Was he that darn ugly, that no girl would love him? He compared himself to that South – African half-Jew, Tate, and wondered why all the girls even went for him, even though they knew he was married. Everyone knew he was not faithful to his wife. Peter did not understand why though, she was so innocently beautiful; so intelligent, yet definitely darn blind for marrying Tate. He walked from the mirror; leaving his viciously scarred face behind. He wished he could take Alice from Tate, he would worship her; he would love her endlessly! By Gods mercy could he no be with her? Yet she would probably never see past his scars, she would not love him either. No girls loved him and no girl ever would! He walked passed the guys who inevitably started laughing again. He walked out to the desert and fell to his knees in the devilish hot sand. He looked around him and saw nothingness. “God could you not send me an angel, please I want give my love to a deserved girl. I need and want to be loved!”
His words left his mouth and vanished. He sat backward, fell on his back and lay flat on the sand. He closed his eyes and continued praying for the millionth time.
Time passed and he realized that he should escape the sun, before he became any more ugly. He sat up and the heat was unbearable now, he stood up and there in the distance he saw a still figure. He walked slowly towards it. Then he saw it was a woman and started running. The closer he got the more he recognized the dress. It was Alice. What had happened? Was she alright? Dead?
He fell to his knees next to her and saw that her skin had begun burning. How long had she been laying there? Why had he not seen her?
He tried to wake her but she was still. He picked her up and held her close. He looked at her beautiful angelic face and kissed her gently on the lips. Her once soft lips were dry and cracking now. She was badly dehydrated. Why he kissed her in this state he did not know, but he knew they had to get out of the sun. He couldn’t feel a heart beat, and he wanted to keep her here, away from all the mocking judging faces. Here, where they could love each other alone, they could be together without the world. But he knew better. Or did he?

Tate sat up and stared in fear at the curtain, who could possibly have seen them?
Alice was working, so it could not possibly have been her. He did love her but then again he loved women in general. He looked at Akasha’s stunning; tanned naked body. She was an absolute goddess. He loved her for her unbelievable power to control those around her with what God gave her. Alice was just a lost soul who needed him. She was intelligent, far more than he was, but she could never be as beautiful as Akasha. Tate had married Akasha because he had felt compelled too. She had perhaps coaxed him into it. Yet it was he who now controlled her and was happy to have Alice – as his slave. She did his dishes; cleaned his clothing and did whatever he ordered her too. Akasha would never do that; for now he had the best of both worlds. He lay back down and could care less about the person who had seen them. Tate and Akasha lay together in their sinful nakedness until the curtain was suddenly flung open. It was almost dark and he could hear screaming. Dreadful; piercing, deathly cries. He felt someone pull him from the bed and scream at him, “You bastard, come look what you have done.” He pulled on a pair of jeans and almost fell out of the tiny hut.
There were people standing further off in the desert itself. The sun was almost completely gone – he and Akasha had obviously fallen asleep again. Tate reached the crowd. Everyone was standing behind a thick line marked deeply in the sand. It was a gigantic circle formed around two lifeless beings. There were two sets of footprints into the middle where they lay. Both sets of footprints looked as though each person had been running to the middle of the enormous circle.
“Who the hell is it?” Tate said in a groggy, feeling less voice.
“Can’t you even recognize your own wife?” someone screamed from amidst the crowd.
One of the elders, a man, came to him and handed him a piece of paper, “It is Peter and Alice.”
It was Peter who had written the letter.

“Leave us to lie here. For even though we never had each other in life, we have each other in pure innocent death. God gave me the angel – Alice. And in death we have found love. Please have respect and do not step into this circle. To Tate – I found Alice’s lifeless body. I do not know what happened, but it is now my turn to look after her like you never could.”

Tate turned to feel Akasha’s hand brush against his shoulder and felt suddenly repulsed.

No one ever crossed into the circle.

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