The morning sun turned the golden grit of the dunes into a sea of red.  Waves and ripples distorted the serene surface, pushed on by the strong desert winds.
There was no life there.
 Nothing could withstand the burning heat and no sane man could endure the howling murmur of the wind for too long.  Bleached bones poked out of the sands here and there, for a moment or more untill the sands buried them again. If they were men or beasts none could tell, and only they themselves knew what mad desperation had brought them to such a forsaken place.

So it was, and so it always had been. An ever changing changlessness.

The sands shifted.

Partially uncovered by the sand was a figure of blacks and browns. His skin tanned and cracked by the relentless sun, his robes hard and brittle, discoloured by time and toil.  His chestnut face, squeezed in a ragged skullcap revealed two open peering eyes, green as grass.
He groaned.