It was on my lips.

It coated my face, my hands, and especially was it noticeable on the finger-tips when touched by the ball of my thumb.
Next I was aware of ceaseless movement.

All that was about me lurched and oscillated.

There was jolt and jar, and I heard what I knew as a matter of course to be the grind of wheels on axles and the grate and clash of iron tyres against rock and sand.

And there came to me the jaded voices of men, in curse and snarl of slow-plodding, jaded animals.
I opened my eyes, that were inflamed with dust, and immediately fresh dust bit into them.