February 23 Yellow wind warning issued for Northern Ireland

They hunkered down behind a sand wall they’ve built to shelter as tiny sand particles roared overhead, like being in a jet engine, getting lower or risk being pepper sprayed and pockmarked. 

The rushing sound cocooned their bodies, wrapped them together in precarious safety, dropping occasionally before swelling once more, the roar modulating like breathing.  

Day after day they held on, their cramped muscles eventually growing distant, tips of bodies disappearing until they were only two heads facing each other.  

Her eyes still blazed, and lit his up, the grey melting and swirling. After her nose he couldn’t see anymore, the circle of sight was closing in. She blinked and he answered.  

The noise levelled into something solid, concrete blanketing their horizons, they stared at each other, feeling smiles they couldn’t see until even those flew away, joining the airstream, breaking down into nitrogen and oxygen. Their eyelashes became trace elements, pupils of argon. They closed their eyes for a moment, unsure what will come next.  

 

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