jueves, 16 de agosto de 2007

Life was running away

And he felt life was running away from his hands. Everything was ending and he couldn’t do anything. Had he lived enough? He didn’t know. But life was leaving so quickly that he couldn’t even think about it. He felt no happiness, no sadness, anything at all. All he felt was that life was ending up just like sand had gone through his hands when he picked it up at the beach last summer. His clock was running backwards. It was a countdown, not a clock anymore. Just like sand goes through one’s hand. Little by little it goes. But it goes forever…

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