In the grey-pink light of early morning, the breezes that accompany the warmth of sunrise were yet to begin. The night birds were back in their nests and the day birds were dozing. The world was still and silent except for Linsora’s labored breath and grunts of pain as she clutched the stitch in her side.
She inhaled through clenched teeth and marshaled one last breath for a wordless howl. Her fingers curled into fists filled with sand. Standing, she hurled the sand toward the water. She threw another handful toward the shore, away from the water.
The sky brightened, slowly re-coloring the landscape from soft pastels into stark primary tones. Linsora didn’t notice. She threw sand, pebbles, anything she could find. Someone watching might have chuckled, but anyone who knew her would recognize pure rage. Linsora didn’t waste energy on frivolous activity, but she never made any effort to hide her true feelings. She didn’t throw things for fun. Thousands of years of genetic history filled her from her home world of Khizara. Never one to hide their emotions, Khizarans knew the extremes of all emotions, and today Linsora visited most of them.When the first flock of day birds walked out onto the beach and fluttered the sleep out of their wings, she stopped.
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