We stayed there, on the dune, for a long time—what might have been an hour, an entire day, or a discreet eternity—the time dissolving around us like light in the grains of sand.
We no longer needed to walk, nor to speak, nor even to truly think.
We were no longer travelers.
No longer survivors.
We were simply… there.
Present.
Anchored in that suspended moment, at the edge of a world too beautiful to be explained, too calm to be disturbed by clumsy words.
Sometimes we exchanged a glance.
Sometimes not even that.
And yet, everything was said.
We observed.
In silence, in a nameless reverence, like two souls become children again before something greater than themselves.
We had nothing to add.
Nothing to correct.
We were not the authors of this tableau.
Only its witnesses.
This paradise did not deserve to be rushed through, to be reduced to a fleeting vision or an emotion too quickly released.
It deserved more than a few moments of admiration.
