Bartholomew's Desert Dream

Bartholomew the camel stretched his long neck toward the glowing moon. He had carried people and goods all day, his large, padded feet making soft thumps in the warm sand. The sun had long since set, and the other camels had already settled down for the night, their snorts and snores a gentle lullaby in the quiet desert.

But Bartholomew was still awake. He loved these moments all to himself, after a long day of work. The desert at night was a whole different world. The sand was cool against his knees, and a gentle breeze whispered across the dunes. The stars glittered like scattered diamonds, and the moon seemed to hang in the sky just for him.

Tonight, the moon was a perfect, silvery crescent, shaped like a smile. And Bartholomew, feeling happy and peaceful, smiled back. He wiggled his toes, settling his body into the cool sand, and closed his eyes.

"Thank you," he mumbled to the moon. "For a good day."

The moon's light seemed to grow a little brighter, as if it were winking. Bartholomew snuggled down, already dreaming of fresh dates and cool water. He knew tomorrow would bring more long hours and heavy loads, but for now, he was content. He was warm, he was safe, and he knew that the moon would be waiting for him again when the day was done. Good night, Bartholomew. Sweet dreams.