Something I wrote in high school. Very proud.
A grain of Sand. So small but so significant. On beaches, lie an army. Beneath the ocean lies its population. She is almost everywhere. She sees and knows almost all.
In the beginning before herself, she was a creature or a creature's home. Waves crashing and pressure increasing crushes those creatures. In and out of shore eventually making the small shards of "anything is possible".
Sand's life is filled with interaction. She spends her time lying under the sun taking up rays. Feeling the heat come and go with each passing rise and set. She loves when people come to play with her. Digging holes, massaging the grittiness of her. Burying themselves so she can embrace and caress them like a mother does with her newborn. She watches the amused children gaze as the ocean leaps into the holes and tracks making a small lake. The child trails his finger from the lake drawing a river further up to shore. The children run away from the small incoming waves that tickles Sand. She is sad when they leave but she always gives a piece of her to them in their shoes. Some dump her out like useless something. Why?
She cries under the waves drowning her.
She has a love/hate relationship with the Ocean. He could be considered as her older brother. She hates how the Ocean drowns her and holds her down. Sometimes the Ocean is kind and takes her on an adventure on the floor of him observing her past selves carefully walk over her or swim smoothly through her brother. The best gift the Ocean could give to her is move more of Sand to the surface where the people are.
More of her to interact with the humans.
All the weddings she has seen upon her. All the first kisses. All the children that experience the beach for the first time. The many occasions of lost and found. The things people forget or lose on her which soon becomes a part of her if it isn't found by another person. Expensive jewelry, flat beach balls, a baby's pacifier, food that never makes contact with a persons mouth, and, unfortunately, trash. Nonetheless, it makes her feel human. The refreshing feeling of "l can do anything. Anything is possible." That's how she imagines the people feel. Maybe they aren't even aware of how amazing and interesting she finds them. She knows this is true. Some have washed up on her shores unmoving when the previous day she saw the same person leave on a boat, leaking from their faces. Red and making unfamiliar sounds that she just knows is sad. Or the times in the desert. So many lost souls wander aimlessly. Eventually falling and the life disappearing shortly after. Decaying and never found. She doesn't like when the people die and stay there for eternity. "Why do humans die?" "How do they live?" "What makes them feel this way?" She wonders. "They have freedom to travel anywhere. By foot, by train, by car, by plane. Bicycles, too." She recognizes some humans at other parts of her around the world. All she knows is the beach and ocean, and deserts which is more than the humans can say with their submarines that barely scratches the surface of the mysteries of the ocean. Still. She has seen some pictures that were lost. The plains. The mountains. The soil replacing what isn't sand. Her own mysteries she hopes one day won't be a mystery anymore. She thinks about all the times she has been made into a sand castle. There's nothing she loves more than being formed into something beautiful.
Sometimes she doesn't feel beautiful. But when a person forms her into a stunning sculpture of a mermaid or shell, joy fills her. Sand castles are most common and she knows it. It's her favorite. She would stay like that for days on end if the ocean allows it. When the people take seaweed or a stick or anything laying around that most times others wouldn't look twice at and decorate the sandcastle with. She couldn't be more interested in how humans take ugly or messy things and mold it into a vibrant sight. Sounds included. Oh! The sounds, how they embrace Sand!
There's this essence of laughter and squealing with excitement that would bring a smile to Sand's face, if she had one. Sometimes she was drawn one. Laughter is like the ocean waves hitting the edge of a cliff. Each so different though. Ones with higher sounds Sand has sometimes mistaken for seagulls or the lower ones mistaken for splashing waves used for surfing. Ah. But music. So many different sounds made to correspond making music. Sand wouldn't know how to explain music. Humans changing the pitch of their voice to tell a story. Other sounds. One time a human brought his violin to the beach and played for hours. A few other times, groups of people brought other instruments working together spitting out sounds. Sand can't wrap her mind around it. She is clueless how they can do it. Of all the things the humans have made, her most memorable is when they made her into glass.
She had never experienced heat like this before when they first turned her to glass. It didn't hurt though. As she was being made new, the man burned himself and yelped. What she understood, it was familiar. Like the times when people would leak
and whimper out to the ocean. Pain. She now understood. After her making, she was used for so many things. She felt useful. Sand was now able to see the humans more.
She watched them look through her. Although she liked to imagine them staring at her. Finally admiring her how she wanted to be admired. She was the screens of devices and she would watch television shows, movies, and videos with them from a place called YouTube. She would cheer them on when they played games. She would soak in the knowledge of social media. She was on the faces of watches people would carry with them at all times. Sand would see everything from an even more beautiful perspective from the lens of a camera. Or serving beverages and food from Sand as a pitcher or bowl. Being a window was quite an experience for Sand. Everything had Windows these days. She would watch sports games. She would be at schools in awe at the way humans learn. She preferred colleges. They were much more similar in the way she preferred to learn about the world. More "hands on". Less sitting around waiting for something useful and interesting to happen. She was inside with the people she worshipped but yet outside where she was born. She was a toddler experiencing the little things for the first time. Again. Sand loved her new life. Things couldn't be better. Being glass was so much better than being only sand, although almost everywhere, she was now where she wanted to be. The mysterious places she had always dreamed of. Although a good life, there was one thing she missed.
When dropped, she breaks.
Now. A shard of glass. A new form but not. Surprised. So small but so significant.
In homes, lie an army. Beneath roofs, lies its population. She now realizes something. "l am now everywhere. I now see and know all. I know why people dump me out like useless something. I know why humans die. I know how they live. I know what makes them feel miserable. I know what the mountains are like. I know how flat the plains are. I know the lives that matter. I know...l know it all." The thing that sand doesn't understand is is Heaven and Hell because not even humans understand it. Some don't even believe in a Heaven or Hell. How could they not? This. This is something never understood. All people have to be concerned about is, if sand is right. If heaven and hell exist, where are they going after they die?
