Feels Like Sand In My Eye When I Blink Mga Nobela at Kwento

This shirt makes my breats look phenomonal. I turn off the light and crawl into bed, pulling the blankets up to my chin and burying deep into the pillow. Within moments I feel myself drifting off into the darkness. I don't know how much time has past when I open my eyes once more, but it feels like mere seconds. My eyes are burning as if there is sand in them and I can't manage to hold my eyelids up. I don't know what woke me, but I am laying down to go back to sleep.

SARAH Dull pain crept through my state of unawareness. I winced, or at least I thought I did. As my senses slowly returned, I realized there was something blocking my throat. A sliver of panic surfaced but quickly died in a mass of blurry sensations and more and more acute pain. Opening my eyes hurt. A sharp, bright light stung. My eyelids were dry, and when I tried to blink, it felt as if I were rubbing my eyeballs with sandpaper. I closed them again.

My eyes feel like sandpaper when I blink them open. Pain ricochets in my chest as a shuddering breath leaves my lips. Even though the sun is shining the day feels dull. Looking around the room I freeze. The golden colors around the room do not belong to me. Lifting my head from the warm hard surface I am laying on my eyes land on Xander’s face. His eyes are closed and the even rhythm of his breathing lets me know that he is sleeping.

I was coughing so much with my eyes closed now, as another gust of wind had struck my eye, leaving me with no opportunity to itch the particles of sand out of my eye. I was utterly helpless. "W...h...o a....r...e y...o...u?" I slurred feebly in great fear when I got the tiny opportunity to safely use my mouth. I still couldn't see the man as my eyes were closed, the particles prickling my eyeballs, making me reflexively tighten my eyelashes against the part that itched most since I couldn't use my hands. My hands felt very heavy now, in locks of chains; I was unable to move them.

I groaned, still rubbing her arms on my cheeks and face. “It’s uncle Cairo’s hand.” Upon hearing that I immediately stopped rubbing my face and forced my eyes open to look if it is really him. “Shit!” I screamed when the sands entered my eyes, I then realized that I was in front of the kids so I added, “of paper!” Oh gosh it stings.I need fresh water to rinse these damn sands. “It hurts!” I can feel my tears coming out from my eyes even though I can’t open it wide. “Fuck,” I heard Cairo muttered and then I felt myself elevate from the ground.

Not blinking. Something really isc razy. I feel it deep in my bones.

Blake concluded. Tana shifted forward and explained, “Take sand for example. You can’t see a grain of sand with bare eyes—unless, of course, you look closely.” Then, her hands mimicked the gathering of sand on a beach as she said, “But when millions and millions of them come together, you start to see them.” She looked up at me and asked, “How many millions of sand particles, do you think, would made up a ball of sand as big as your fist?”

I turn my attention from the thoughts running through my mind to his eyes. “And listen to my voice. Okay?” He asks, I nod. “You say they remind you of the ocean right? The bright blue waves crashing on the sand. The sound that could put almost anyone’s mind at ease. The salt in the air creating a beautiful scent. The sand on your feet, feels like memory foam every time you take a step. Is that what my eyes remind you of?” He says, my breathing gets a little better. “Yes” I gasp, trying to collect more air.

There was a sudden chill on my lips, followed by a whiff of lemongrass scent running into my nostrils. My eyes widened. The moment I raised my eyes, I clearly felt my eyelids itchy, as if being gently swept by some small brush. I took a closer look and what was in front of me were thick eyelashes. I suddenly understood what was blocking my mouth and who was emitting the scent that kept invading me. My brain was instantly emptied, like a computer suddenly unplugged and the monitor went dark. I could only mechanically reflect the image of what was in front of me. It was two thin eyelashes, like the thin feathers of a butterfly cut off, and like a long spider's legs poking out of a swamp, the e