I am a shell.
I have been lifted into the air...and dropped until i violently shatter upon the rocks below. The waves lap ceaselessly up the sharp points of my demise. The seagull has eaten my soft inhabitant and leaves me hollow and in pieces until the ocean takes me back.
Sometimes I am filled with soft, squishy things. Sometimes I am hollow. Sometimes I sound like the ocean because that is where I come from. I softly echo my origins. The salty waves that have licked me clean and smooth, the tiny white grain of sand that stuck to me long ago has incorporated itself into my being.
That small grain has been blended into me and licked by those waves until it is no more than a tiny bump on my surface that you would not notice unless you looked for it. It has marred my tan with a speck of white.
I will always know it's there.
I have been lifted into the air...and dropped until i violently shatter upon the rocks below. The waves lap ceaselessly up the sharp points of my demise. The seagull has eaten my soft inhabitant and leaves me hollow and in pieces until the ocean takes me back.
A new shell will be molded from my fragments.
Yes.
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