Rough patterns in the sand.
Footprints; Cold, Wet.
Molded into memory;
Lost into time.
One pair of footprints.
The others were gone,
Washed away at sunset.
The end of all.
The sun setting
The everlasting eclipse.
Alone is the human,
One person; that's it.
No love on the beach.
The water ebbs; tear flow.
No more memories in the sands.
Darkness rains down and bathes.
Overwhelming chaos!
The footprints are gone;
Nothing can be seen.
Everything is present,
Except someone else.
Alone is the human,
Scaring the sand with every step.
No second pair of footprints.
The wind blows,
And the footprints are gone.
Alone we all are,
Enemies to love.
About the Creator
Equilla B
Hello! I'm a 21-year-old horror and fantasy writer looking to gain experience on this wonderful platform! I'll write the occasional short stories and opinion posts, so please stick around.
This One Time At Starbucks
The Pug was sitting inside a red wagon with wooden sides and plastered with stickers like ‘Doggy Power!” and “I'm a puppy at heart", and other such nonsense. Judging by that and the amount of doggy things the woman had with her, including a bag that looked a lot like a diaper bag, and the way the lady's entire universe was circling around this mutt, I'd say this was her child. She was the type of woman, who, when asked about grandkids, she'd say, "This is your grandchild."
By Becky Troup4 days ago in Humans
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