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Rendering stone to sand

February 4, 2017

On the long, narrow beach at the edge of the continent, she spread out a towel and sat, looking out over the water, over the relentless waves, the froth crackling on the sand, the pounding of the surf, every 10 seconds another wave, and another, and another. She sat with it, with all of it, with the constant noise and motion, and she thought about how long this had been happening, how long before she came into being, how long it would continue on, each wave, one after another, rendering stones to sand, drowning memory, effort, action, remorse.

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