In response to: Your Daily Prompt for March 6: Chafe

The hot dry wind spins the squeaking windmill without rest. The weathered cabin shudders from an unusually hard gust, and a horned lizard in the shade closes its eyes. After drying the sweatband of my hat, I sip from my canteen. It has been a good day.

desert trail…
the hot sand inside my boots
chafing my tired feet

Al W Gallia