An eyelash falls off an eyelid. It sails through the still air and lands in a soft bed of dust. If we were to catch every eyelash that has ever fallen off a face, would we be able to create a colorful shoreline of lashes that would remind us that even the things that we lose everyday without noticing matter? Perhaps there is an ant somewhere that builds nests out of our lashes and finds comfort in things we do not remember to miss when they’re gone. Or perhaps we just let them fall into the ground and become the dirt that patiently awaits to swallow us whole when our hearts cannot fight gravity anymore. But the question still remains, why do we miss some things more than others?
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