M4: Sandstorm!

     A leash clenched in my left hand, I led a peevish camel through the harsh desert. Behind me, Bedouins wrapped in long scarves trudged along the well worn trade road. All together, we made up a caravan of dehydrated travelers and tired livestock. After arriving in an oases on the Arabian Peninsula, I had joined forces with the nomads. So far, it had just gotten me a face full of camel spit.
     The flat, sandy, plain of the desert stretched out in all directions. I was getting really tired of the same old scenery. The air was over 120 degrees and bone dry. Suddenly, a hot wind blew in my face. The subtle difference almost knocked me over. The breeze culminated into a roar, and a giant wave of sand loomed in the distance. "Sandstorm!" a Bedouin yelled over the din.
     My companions immediately hunkered down behind their camels. I thought it was awful to use an animal as a shield, but camels are the boats of the desert. They are built to block sand. I pressed my self against George (my camel), who had already sat down. I buried my face in my scarf. The minute I had got into position, the storm caught up with us. Even though I was covered, the grit worked it's way into my mouth, ears, and nose. Huddled for dear life, I tried to keep breathing.
     After about five minutes of 0 visibility, the wind died down to a low moan. I could see the sky! I surveyed the rest of the traders. We had all shifted backwards 10 feet. Standing up shakily, I shook about 20 pounds of sand from my clothes. Assembling back into caravan formation, everyone carried on as if nothing had happened. I was very confused. Didn't people die in sandstorms? Why were they all so indifferent? I asked a kind man named Muhammad. "That little thing? That was just a breeze." he replied with a laugh.
     I had the caravan drop me off at the closest town. Even though Muhammad had assured me that we had been in no danger, I was still kind of freaked out. I rushed to my Porshe and zoomed off. I really didn't want to face another wall of dirt. If I did ever encounter another sandstorm though, I knew to locate the nearest camel. In an instant, I was greeted by New York. I noticed an identical face peering through the crowd. Linking arms with Glimmer, I walked away from the barren Arabian Peninsula.