When the Sand Laughs

When the Sand Laughs
by Drakovi Bloodrose

The sand laughed in spirals, and I laughed back because what else could I do.

It wasn't mocking me, not really.
It was just tired of being stepped on.
Each grain had a name I couldn’t pronounce and a history I’d never believe. Some were bones of gods, others were dreams that never got dreamt.

I bent down to listen, and it filled my ears with static, like the sound of prayers whispered underwater. It told me I was already a ruin,

a beautiful one, but crumbling all the same.

I looked to the sky for a response, but the sky had folded in on itself like a napkin after dinner, used and vaguely embarrassed.

I stayed a while anyway.

Sank to my knees.

Let the laughter crawl up my spine.
I laughed until my ribs ached, until the wind forgot my name and started calling me something older.

Maybe the desert forgave me.

Or maybe it was never angry to begin with.

Maybe it just wanted someone to laugh with
so it wouldn’t be alone in its endless spinning.