Zine Fragment 067: “The Sand Remembers”

The dunes don’t care about clocks.
They shift and fold like old parchment, keeping the shape of footsteps long after the travelers have forgotten the journey.
I walked there once, in the hour between gold and rust, and felt the pull of a memory that wasn’t mine.
The wind spoke in syllables older than my tongue,
and for a moment, the horizon leaned closer,
as if to remind me:
You are only passing through.
I am not.