[>a desert spanning out for miles
> (cold, glittering sand sings to the stars above. a moonless sky.)
the sand flows over your limbs like water. on your skin it feels like the sounds the sea makes. you can't quite move yourself, no matter how much you try. despite knowing that you do have a body, it seems to be detached from you besides that soft feeling of flowing sands.
unable to move, you lay there and wait for the panic to kick in. wait for the gut wrenching anxiety that has brought you out of bed every day, all this time.
yet it never comes.
out of nowhere, the moon appears and stares down at you
as the sand slowly settles
and the stars blinks indifferently
there is not a single gust of wind.
you think about your mother, and find yourself unable to recall how she looked the last time you saw her. you try to picture your father walking up the stairs, the clouds when you left, your best friend's smile, the junction where you saw a girl lying by a bus, the sun that burned the tarmac. but they slip pass you like a stream of silvery fish. with all your might you reach into your head, trying to grasp onto anything, anything at all.
there was nothing left.
and then it floats up to the surface, noiselessly like a bubble in a pond. a face that you'd carefully buried under the mundane ghost you'd become to stay alive, or so you always tell yourself.
"give it to me", the moon says.
you hurriedly, and carefully, put the face back into its shallow grave. not yet.
the moon smiles, "your loss".
and just like that, everything and everyone you knew, all but one, are gone from your mind. you are now an orphan in the desert.
what do you do?
cry. you are lost.
cry. you are alone.
cry. you are free.
