Disclaimer: Labyrinth isn't mine…. Bogdamnit
The sun's rays beat down upon my head and shoulders. In her excitement, she let go of my hand, only partially clasped. The dry clumps of sand sail out from under her feet, pounding so gracelessly as she runs to reach the foamy surf.
I built this for her. It isn't real. The Labyrinth has no ocean; for such a thing is a resonance of time, washing away all memory and retaining it. But she wanted the nipping salty air and the illusion of space. An endless horizon; a destination that no one ever reaches, that no one ever ceases to reach for.
It reminds me of her. The girl that is closed to me as a fist. I would follow her. I would count her footprints in the sand, before they are washed away, stolen by that incessant sea of time. If she would unclench her hand, take my hand. If she would open her heart to me, our footprints would be in the sand…
But I don't sit and wait.
I don't give a damn.
I don't see the point at all.
No footprints in the sand.