The Mojave Desert: A Short Story

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The sun baked the Gambling Capital of the World on a skillet known as the Mojave Desert. Although the temperature peaked over 100 degrees Fahrenheit, the dry Western air felt cool compared to the humid Southern atmosphere. It was nearly 6 o’clock, but the sun would not rest for another few hours. My family and I were seated in a corner of the Cosmopolitan Hotel’s Boulevard Pool where we relaxed in the shade and breeze, away from all the tourists stirring up commotion and conglomerating together to sunbathe in the day’s final rays. Britney Spears stared into my eyes as she draped over the midsection of the Planet Hollywood Hotel, advertising her Vegas show. Sitting down and watching the tourists and cars inch through traffic down the Strip four stories below became boring, so I pulled out my iPhone from my holster and opened my social media platforms. First, Snapchat. Then, Instagram. Finally, Facebook. It felt nice to relax. My parents were conversing in their native language of Filipino, which I was struggling to learn, but I did understand a few words. They smiled and laughed as they conversed about all …show more content…

I started to create escape plans, preparing for the worst if someone tried to bomb Las Vegas. I looked up from my phone to the poster of Britney Spears ahead, but the thought of her face exploding, a pimple being popped on the nose on the face of the city, swarmed my mind like a bee. An escape plan hatched into my brain: I would duck behind the railing, use the concrete and glass bannisters to shield myself from the debris that would fly from the soon-to-be demolished hotel, and grab my family and run to the nearest exit, which was behind us by a few feet. The thought that the Cosmopolitan, a 61-story giant, collapsing in the same fashion as the World Trade Center in 2001 horrified me. Sweat started to roll down my body out of fear, not heat, and my anxiety created a whirlwind of

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