Everything ends the same. We all become what we were destined to become, a figment of memories, an image of receding dust.

Watch as the wind picks up the sand. We are part of the sand, the gone are part of the pebbles, and their voices linger longer than their faces ever will.

I wish humans were just a voice. Maybe that would make it easier not to look them in the face when you lie. I could be a better liar. I bet I could trick the people I meet into believing I'm the only person like me they'll ever meet.

Oh I'm just one of the million pebbles that are alike. The same weight, the same color, the same lustre of salty sea. You see? I'm alike, just like the sand.

My shape is even simular.