Literary workshop: Lesson 3

In the third installment of the literary workshop I had to write the same story in two different points of view. I also written a third revision by the request of the workshop mentor. As always comment and tell me what you think...

******

First person:

In the middle of a desert, atop a nameless horse, I looked to the horizon. At the peak of one of the endless array of dunes, I saw a large oasis. I felt my heart come alive in excitement and hope filled my body. I summon the last ounce of strength left in me and I jumped off of the weary horse and ran with all my might that it felt as though I was flying. As I inch closer and closer to my salvation, I could almost feel the cold water rushing through my throat.

Alas, the oasis was nothing more than an illusion. I crumple down into a heap where the mirage had led me. It was a cruel joke that exhausted the last remaining hope in my body but I was determined not to let it defeat me.

I took a handful of sand and drank it defiantly under the blistering sun. Though coarse, the sand was no longer just sand to me. It was ice cold water quenching my thirst. I no longer cared for reality and I laid there satisfied, slowly slipping away under the hot desert sun.

Third person:

In the middle of a dessert, on top of a nameless horse, He looked to the horizon. There, at the peak of one the endless array of dunes he saw a large oasis. It filled his body with hope and he could almost feel his heart come alive. Away he went; jumping from his horse, running with all his might that he flew through the sands. He could almost feel the water rushing through his throat as he inched closer and closer to his salvation.

Sadly, the oasis was nothing more than an illusion to this man. As he realized that this was nothing more than a cruel joke, he slowly crumpled down into a heap. It exhausted the last remaining hope in his body.

Defiant till the end, he took a handful of sand, put it to his dry mouth and drank it. It was no longer sand to him. It was a tall drink of ice cold water. Reality no longer mattered to him and he laid there satisfied, slowly slipping away under the hot desert sun.

*********

Third Person Revision

On top a tired and weary horse waking mindlessly in an endless desert landscape, he looked to the desert for any sign of hope. He found it at the end of a long array of dunes, with what seemed like a thriving oasis.

The sight of the sanctuary had caused hope to run back through his veins. The idea of sipping from the crystal clear waters energized him and sent him racing to the unlikely haven in the middle of this arid wasteland. He summoned all of his strength, jumping from his horse and running through the dunes. His feet excavate burrowed in to the hot sand and scalded his bare feet but that was not enough to stop his advance. He was on a mission and nothing could stop him.

He imagined the cold water rushing down my throat as I inched closer and closer to the oasis. He could practically taste the refreshing water that he direly needed but, alas, all the wind was knocked out of him when he finally realized that it was nothing more than a mirage.

This cruel joke would be enough to break somebody’s spirit, but not this man. He will not be defeated. Standing there defiantly where the mirage had led him, he grabs a handful of sand. This was water; this was not sand in his hands. No one can convince him otherwise.

He poured the sand down his throat, guzzle every mouthful. Though the sand was coarse and dry, his wits convince him that he had just knocked back a tall glass of cold water. He didn’t care; his thirst was quenched and he was finally satisfied.

With all his strength finally gone and hope in short supply he laid there motionless. He was gone and he knew that this was his time to die.