A waking of spirit, of whimsical misnomers and silence of the new world.
She could feel the warmth first, soft and almost enveloping. It was beneath her fingers, the tips of each feeling granules like sand as she pulled them in and closed a palm over the gathered land. It was down her bare arm as well, and though she felt it at her chest and ribs and still lower at her hips which pressed deeper into the sands, she felt a division, clothing, yes, that is what it was, something simple, but not past her thighs where the sands again welcomed her within their warm folds. It was sand, of course, for she heard the water very near, lapping at a shore that couldn’t be but a stretch away. But she saw nothing, save for a brightness, not color, but light, beyond the thin veils of eyelids. Continue reading