The Little Prince

The tourists had gone. He had changed back into his ordinary clothes and left his didgeridoo at the hotel complex. Now was his time.     Listening to the rhythmic click of the insects and their evening chatter calmed him. He’d earned enough for another flying lesson. Soon he would be up there looking down on his home.
    He hadn’t flown at night yet, but that would come. He was a patient person. He knew that his name Allambee, which meant 'quiet place’, suited him well. You had to be still and free from anger living with the incessant buzz of flies, scolding heat and worse still the constant stream of eager faced people hunting for trophies to represent their holiday adventures.
    He often felt like a visitor from another planet. An alien being fallen from a distant galaxy to taste the red sandstone dust and experience the harsh reality of Uluṟu-Kata Tjuṯa . Flowers only decorated the barren ground if it rained and they were scentless unlike the roses in the gardens of the big cities like Adelaide. A large brown Mulga snake slithered by, ignoring Allambee, in its pursuit of its evening meal unaware of the young man’s isolation, loneliness and dreams of other worlds.