2018-06-24 0103)UK T.P.
In a time before technology, before industry we walked. Maybe taking loved ones with us on a journey across the sands, maybe being joined by a rock we found along the way.
But whenever we encountered the stuff that quenched our thirst we saw someone. Someone we recognised. Someone everyone else knew.
We searched for them everywhere. Sometimes never finding them.
Sometimes as our desperation reached its peak we found water and there they were, looking back out at us.
We knew we had to drink. But each time they looked older, sometimes distressingly so.
But each time we met I took something from them.
I couldn't find a way through the shell. I dug to find a way through. But as the water pooled at the bottom I saw they had taken your feet. Your legs. It scared me. Why did they do that, those others down there, they looked like friends of mine. Your demons I guess.
When we met often I saw that you were well. I tried to scoop up the water. To show you to my friends. Help this one, don't demonise him.
Another told me she saw the same. I knew we would have to part with a companion since birth. But I could have one last celebration.
That was when we held the cups together. I saw her other half. In the cup where you normally were.
She saw the same. I could see it. Her other half was her. Not a mere reflection. Her.
An idea sparked.
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