She holds the tiny grains of sand in the palm of her hand.
Grays, browns, and black all mingled together in a mosaic
resembling her shattered world as it spins out of control.
She closes her eyes tightly and listens.
The roaring wind races forward,
promising to tear apart her very core
leaving her broken and alone.
There is no shelter to run to,
no arms to collapse into.
She is utterly alone and the wind is still racing.

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