[Untitled prose freewrite]

Location

94582
United States
37° 45' 50.2092" N, 121° 54' 47.4336" W

There's a sort of beauty in the vulnerability of a forsaken soul. Such a soul is doomed to be forever lost at sea: thrown overboard by those he loved (and those he regrettably still does). 

 

After being pulled onto new ships, against odds he assumed infinitely in the favour of anyone but himself, he learns to forgive. Wounds slowly heal and new relationships are formed. What a lucky break... that is, until he is betrayed again: tossed back into the salty sea.

 

After enough of these betrayals, this lost soul, he becomes understandable bitter, ironically only worsening his chances at being truly loved. And so, he finds the best solution to save a wretch such as him (for it is so obviously a fault of his: abandonment a common effect of the such anomaly), is to turn himself to stone.

 

As we know, well enough, however... stone sinks.

 

And so, when he is thrown again into the familiar abyss, this poor soul is quickly pulled into cold black depths. The salt of his water taints his mind as he is forced to swallow through the pain. "It's for the better," he tells himself. As darkness envelops, as he is slowly crushed to dust, to diamond, and as warmth becomes but a distant memory, this poor stone soul feels cool sand touch his calloused body.

 

"At last," he says, though his voice is warped, "they can't hurt me anymore."

 

And it was there, on the chilled sea floor, surrounded by terrifying and only vaguely unfamiliar creatures, that this poor forsaken soul would forever lie: cursed to be crushed, as stone often is, and become new sand.

 

So he lied on the ground, staring at the shaky surface of an ocean once petrifying, wishing he could see the stars, or that they would at least be less distorted.

 

 

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