When I was young, I had seen sandstorms. One afternoon after autumn, my father brought me back home from a village that was more than ten miles away. Halfway home, we saw that the sky in the north had completely darkened. Just as we were terrified and did not know what was going to happen, sand and stones suddenly flew. The sky was dark and the sun and moon were dark.
The sudden wind, wrapped in dense sand, blew my father and I apart. The visibility was not just a few meters, but less than one meter. We stood face to face and could not see each other's faces clearly.
In the darkness, I could no longer tell the direction. I could not see where my father was. I could only hear the faint voice of my father calling my nickname in the wind.
I couldn't answer father. The moment I opened my mouth, the wind wrapped in sand poured into my throat.
The powerful wind blew my body into a spin. My toes left the ground and were rolled away by the wind. Dad's cries became softer and softer, and then I couldn't hear them anymore.
The wind blew me further and further away, but I was no longer afraid. Taking advantage of the opportunity when the wind spun, I rolled into the ditch by the side of the road and lay there to wait for the storm to pass.
After two hours, the sandstorm began to weaken, and the darkness in front of me turned into a yellow light. I climbed up from the ditch and didn't know which direction to go. Unexpectedly, I saw my father hiding in the ditch not far from me. It turned out that when the wind was strong, my father had turned around to chase me. After chasing for a while, he didn't see me. He was afraid of being too much, so he temporarily hid in the ditch.
The sandstorm had passed, and the terrain in front of them was beyond recognition. The deep ditches on the roadside had been filled up by quicksand, and it was impossible to tell which was the field and which was the road.
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