Two hundred and Sixty

We're children, dying young no matter how long we've lived because we never grow up.

We're orphans, survivors of the storm who’ve been cast away on the shore of that sea from which we came and to which we'll return.

We tell ourselves our parents will come one day to rescue us and take us home.  But they never do.

Eventually we forget from where we came and to where we’re going.  We spend our days playing with each other, and killing each other, because we're children and life is a game.

We also work, building castles out of sand on the sand.  And when the sea washes our castles away, we build them again.

But now we know no one’s coming to rescue us.  There is only the sea.  And after we’ve turned to dust, it will dry up.  Then the seabed, exposed at last when no one’s left to see it, will also turn to dust.