She picked up another shell from the hot sand, and put it into their bucket where other shells were.
Clink.
He quickly grabbed one as it washed to shore.
Clink.
"How strange," She mumbled. "that these beautiful things were once filled with something living."
"I know." He replied. "It makes me see things kind of differently now."
She stopped walking and looked up at him with a confused face. "How?" She asked. "What do you see?"
"I see how many pretty shells are here, and it makes me wonder just how many people are only a pretty shell."
YOU ARE READING
Metanoia
Random(n) the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life A collection of thoughts I've had, Stories I've written, Questions I've asked, And realizations I've made. Watch as I grow up and my thoughts change and my writing develops from 8th...
