Premiere: Turk Turkleton – Offenbachs Father

He felt the insides of his esophagus grind together like sandpaper as he tried to swallow. His voice, one that would cut through the air like an arrow, had been eroded down to a barely intelligible croak. Blotches of gravelly blood replaced his footprints. It was hot. The horizon line swirled with the rising heat. The pale sky danced with sand, and after gazing deep into this whirlwind of colors, he could make out the silhouette of a woman, slowly moving towards him. Was it a mirage? “Water,” he begged. A droplet fell upon his brow.