…
It was an early afternoon. I was thinking about the sea in my hometown.
It’s a peaceful place. The palm trees on the shore clapping their leaves together, almost in rhythm. Almost in sync with the wave that is gently hitting on the wall below, and slowly retreating out just for another wave to come. A process that was happening for so long, it predates every human being that has ever existed, or will ever come at all. Yet those rocks, just barely underneath the surface, all of them are fine grained. Like just how they are telling those poor small little people that visit the place each day “We are aging too! And one day there will be barely anything left of us, like you bunch of meats and bones too.”
…
I saw Sans.
He had his feet buried underneath the sands. With waves gently came in, and gently as they come, faded back into the sea again. He faced towards the sea.
I didn’t know what he was thinking.
…
It was quiet. It was like that for a while.
It’s moment like that I hold onto when I don’t want to keep on going.