Heart of Sand

A Story by Cata Faerman

I guess you could say this is lyrical prose. All I know is that it's about heartbreak.

If at any time the roughness of a heart of sand could heal thanks to the blissful ignorance of those who approach it, that heart would lose its hardness and would welcome the sweet words of a pair of compassionate eyes. But the walls of such broken heart are impervious to energies of that kind. Its essence attracts darkness and the most beautiful lies, because a facade of bonhomie is bound to lure insincerity. Even the most masterful of deceivers cannot elude this. But that's what it is, just an image. The image of a strong heart that has not known the characteristic pain of the infamous love.

How to fix a heart of sand? It becomes whole with each kiss and soft caress. The hands of each stranger are the container that holds its shape. Nevertheless, punctual as the sun, each warm embrace will unfailingly disappear below the horizon, and the heart will be undone, slipping between the fingers of the stranger who does not believe himself to be responsible or even capable of gathering every grain of sand. Soon after dusk the fragments lie in a small pile that has little resemblance to the heart it once was. But by dawn comes a new wave of caresses and kisses, and with it a new pair of godlike hands with the power to shape. Sentenced to be made and unmade as day. That is the nature of the heart of sand.