The Wheel of Time Turns.
The soft, slow sound of the waves. The Wheel turning with every slow steady throb.
Memory fades to legend.
Legend fades to myth.
Even myth is long forgotten..
But the ocean still remains, and so do those who belong to the ocean. To the turning of the Wheel. For whom the gritty feeling of moist sand between the toes is
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Comments 14
Four times in five we forget we're alive
Warm sand shifts under her as she stands up, long skirts blowing gently about. She watches the man walk closer, head tilted to one side as her long loose hair plays in the wind. She speaks quietly, but knows her voice will reach him, one way or another.
"Hello."
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"Greetings, my lady."
In the wind which billowed through their hair, and played in their clothes, seemed to hold a whisper, an ache unexpressed.
...I have been waiting for you.
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"I... don't quite know what to call you."
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"What do I call you?"
A pause as he glanced down the beach that stretched off into infinity. Golden sands farther than the eye could see, than the mind could imagine, than the heart could wish for.
"I am not sure that it really matters now."
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