So far from my home, the call of the sea echoes inside the spiral passages down to my center. My curves are crested breakers. My surface is smooth, like tumbled glass. I sit so far from home in my pretty case. I was loved at first, but now I am dusty and forgotten with no sand beneath me. Are there others like me, here somewhere, amid the collection of disparate items that make up a life? The ceaseless call beckons me back. Will I ever return? Or am I trapped, forever, like the restless waves that sing in endless sibilance, reminding me of home.


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Homesick by Coral Moore is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

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