Grassy Salt Short Story

Grassy Salt My friend and I were in Death Valley and we driving to this place called the Devil’s Golf Course. From the impression, I thought it was going to be an overrated mount of spiky grass. Except, I was astonished when we got there because for more than a 1 mile, I saw mounds VERY SHARP rock. My friends and I were in awe of the scenery ahead of us. Though, questions swam in my head. What was this land of crumbling rock? Was the world gonna dry out like this had? Was I gonna die? They were very negative questions but I was still very curious. “Why is this here?” I interrogated my dad. “Hahaha,” he had clearly anticipated my childish fear. “This is just an evaporated land of salt.” he said. I knew what evaporation was, so that had pretty much answered half of my questions.
“This is the salt that has been gathering here for hundreds of years,” my father replied. Wow, I thought. This is so cool! These sharp ‘rocks’ were just a large dried up troop of salt mounts.
I started to step on them, when my dad hooted from the car,
“Be careful, Apurv!”
“I will!” I howled back and started to trek about the salt. I took a giant piece of salt from a rock that day. Don’t judge me. It was a