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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2228304-Sand
Rated: E · Other · Dark · #2228304
Sometimes we’re like an hourglass, slowly filling with sand.
It’s six in the morning. I wake up I’m light and happy, maybe a touch grumpy because I hate mornings. I get out of bed and can’t find the clothes I set out for the day. A few grains of sand fill my feet. I check my phone. No one has contacted me on three days. More sand. I forgot to get groceries so no breakfast or lunch. My feet are getting heavy, full of sand. The Starbucks person gets my order wrong... twice. Sand. I’m late to work because I read my schedule wrong. Sand. I forgot to stock kids stuff. Sand. I get told off for being slow. Sand. I get sent home early because I’m not as efficient as other employees. Sand. Almost get hit by bad driver. Sand. I have to work on my birthday and my family is blaming me. Sand. Sand. Sand. My whole body is full of sand. I take a shower. I cry. I hate myself for crying. Sand slowly tickles into my body more and more. I feel so heavy. I want to do something fun. I just can’t. Too much sand. It’s still only seven in the evening. The sun is still out. I go to bed.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2228304-Sand