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mortality
Old age is an expectation
The reality is a gift
Tides change
Storms turn to huricances
Waves crash onto the shores
Pulling at the sands of time
Adjusting them
Sometimes slowly
Sometimes the change is drastic
A new landscape
Or complete destruction
Perhaps a small island lays offshore
A sanctuary an offering of precious researves of time
Will it survive the next storm?
You sail around it...