Every morning the world looked like an oyster opening and certain animals would take a pause to enjoy that dependable light show. The coolness from the night spilled over into the day a little, never long enough keep moisture on the ground.
Atticus always found himself in pieces when the earth rolled around and shined sunlight on him. In that new light, he began the process of putting himself back together. That started by willing one of his sand specks to roll and lock onto another, and another until he was a ball rolling.
Once Atticus could stand up and walk around, he’d inspect the smallest crevices and smallest insects first. Walking added to Atticus’s stature. He’d straddle the earth atop those wobbling legs, surveying more of the land as they grew.
He had different reactions to feelings that snatched his conscience around and made him more ponder-stricken than anything. He watched grasshoppers rub their wings together and call out to one another. Seeing that put a hurt in him and he had no one to communicate it to.
He walked until the sun drooped low, when stars started appearing. Suddenly his awareness turned toward the night.
Stumbling around watching the stars and the moon, the comet trails, meteors and satellites take over the sky, he’d finally find himself sprawled about so that he could take in every sight above.
Then he realized that he was all over the place. Looking at the ground on ground level in the next day’s sunlight he began the process of putting himself back together.
Adrianna’s specks of dust started rolling round one another as the moon cast itself over falling night. Her dust particles gathered into a rolling mass whether in the new moon or the full moon.
Depending on where she walked, she might pass a swirl of lingering mounds sharing the night sky. When she approached these remnants she saw masks. She hurried into the wind but never made it soon enough to get a proper look.
Every night the moon went away and slivers of sunlight littered the clouds in the sky. Adrianna stood near those mounds and waited for them to start rolling around. When her moon’s stolen light was finally overpowered by the sun, those mounds had drifted into specks. Those specks started moving and slowly left her, unaware of the mounds she had left behind for them to meet.
One morning, her specks attached to his and she joined him on the sunlit jaunt. By nightfall she carried his pieces back with her on the rolling path to rejoining with her own body.
Normally he’d have laid in repose and let nighttime wash over his field of vision. Now he moved and found lives in the night with stars for light. She carried him and he her, both trying to find the world.