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Rated: E · Prose · Emotional · #1682589
What it's like to have legs and arms made of sand in this world.
My arms and legs felt heavy, like they were packed full with sand. And I'm only here to slow the water that rushes around me. I'll never be free unless I find another sandwoman to take up my place, to lie down in life's current. This existence is futile; I don't know where to go. My every thought fills the hourglass in my head, and the seconds and minutes pass. I lose thought after thought to the bottom of my mind like grains of sand in the glass until, one day, I'm empty. 'Cause it's a slow life; from birth to the day we return to the earth.
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