I don’t know when the storms passed. The grains of sand had started to blind my eyes, though.My feet failed to meet substantial sand.I trotted towards what seemed to be a withered sack with criss cross patterns. Then it all darkened.

The two Arabs guffawed as one of them held the beetle trap towards the moonlight. “Scarab beetle. The symbol of God. We could keep this one with us .”
Another storm smothered both of their laughs that night.

Author’s note: Scarab beetles and the context was inspired from Paulo Coelho’s  ‘The Alchemist’ .