aliciataylor
"Are you pleased with the way your life turned out," read the pamphlet stuck underneath his black scuffed boot. It was probably just some religious crap, he though to himself, they're always trying to sell you something. A bigger car, a greener lawn, a better life. He bent down and peeled the smudged pamphlet off his sole, crumpled it up and threw it into the darkness beside him, and listlessly continued on his journey home from the bar.
Oceans and rivers and streams, all quilted together into the sea of time. Footprints in the sand on an orange and yellow beach. The tide comes in and tickles your toes, a reminder of where you've been before and where you're going. Then, the water erases the tracks you've left and all that is left is millions of grains of sand in front of you, in back of you, and beneath your own feet.