Short Story

Quicksand

A hand reaching up from the sand

You dig your toes in the sand

And feel the grains

As they find space between your toes

Around your ankles

Then up your legs.

You tell yourself you can control this

So you let yourself give in

It feels so good to give in

To sink into the sand

To let it envelope you

Like a warm blanket.

You think about getting up,

But it’s so hard

And sinking is so easy.

So you let yourself sink a little deeper,

Then deeper still

Until getting up is no longer an option

Because the sand is quicksand

And it has taken control,

Pulling you down

Until you’re choking

On that warm blanket.