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I am a speck on a deserted beach in winter, all hat and scarf and no umbrella. Up ahead steel grey clouds tumble, pouring fourth not raindrops but sheets of water that fall like perfect panes of glass. They shatter when they hit me and a thousand tiny shards dance around my feet, my shoulders, my wind-scorched face, water droplets tracking my cheeks like tears. The water cascades off my back like a waterfall, my clothes cling to me as ice creeps into my bones. I have a river for a coat and two puddles for shoes, and yet I don’t shudder, I don’t shiver, the cold does not bite. I wrap the rain around me like a shroud and I watch. I watch the waves. I watch them breathe softly over the sand, in and out, in and out. My own breath matches, in and out, in and out. We are one, me and the ocean, we’re in perfect time. Together we are perfectly calm. No rage today, no crashing upon the shore, only gentle drifting under a warring sky. Let the clouds fight, with their thunder and their lightening. Down here all is peaceful. And soon all will be well.
I am speck on a deserted beach in winter, and as the soft roaring of the waves mingles with the drumming of the raindrops, I wonder if all the water will wash me away.
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